


Think Happy Thoughts

by sosodesj



Category: Peter Pan & Related Fandoms, Peter Pan (2003), Peter Pan - J. M. Barrie
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Depression, F/M, Neverland (Peter Pan), Self-Harm, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-25 05:43:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4948831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sosodesj/pseuds/sosodesj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mellie Peterson fears adulthood and nothing screams adulthood to her more than turning eighteen. Misunderstood by everyone around her, she decides she would rather die than be forced to grow up by her parents. Peter Pan takes it upon himself to grant her wish to stay a child forever and stops her from jumping off a cliff. He takes her to Neverland and tries to help her get rid of her demons, introducing her to the art of fighting pirates, charming mermaids and teasing indians. But soon after her arrival, Mellie starts noticing that Peter is changing quickly into a young man, and a beautiful one at that. Peter goes to her in search for answers about his new cravings and Mellie herself discovers what it means to be cared for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Growing up

**Author's Note:**

> I just really wanted to do a Peter Pan fanfic so... yeah. There is self-harm as well as several depression themes in this fic... Please don't read if it's a trigger!

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock._

I squint, leaning on my chair.

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock._

I frown, watching the hands move. Time seems to be teasing me.

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock._

I don’t even flinch when the bell rings, liberating us. I cock my head sideways, glaring at the numbers some more. Simply wishing they’d stop.

“Anything wrong, Mellie?” Mrs. Humphrey enquires, looking over her small glasses from her desk in front of the class.

“The clock is,” I answer, keeping my gaze locked on the clock as I stand up and grab my books.

“The clock?”

“It’s mocking me.”

“How so?” She frowns, craning her neck to look at it. I blink a couple times.

 “I have to go,” I realise suddenly, taking a proper look at the numbers the clock indicated. “See you next week,” I say, waving at my teacher before exiting into the hallways. I hug my books to my chest as I make my way through the crowded corridor, keeping my head down. My hair falls in front of my eyes and I rapidly flick it away, pushing the strand behind my ear.

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock._

Bodies press against mine as students hurry out of their classes, eager to taste the weekend after this terribly long school week. I stop by my locker, picking up what's left of the books I'd brought home during the week before shutting it determinedly.

I flinch as a clumsy foot steps on mine, but I turn to the exit, focusing on the floor in front of me.

The cold autumn air nips my cheeks as I finally manage to trudge through the sea of people and out of the suffocating building. Breathing in deeply, I tighten the scarf around my neck and brace myself for my arrival home.

I knew what'd be waiting for me when I got there; my sister had had the same speech when she was on the verge of turning eighteen herself. And I knew for sure was that I was not looking forward to my parents rambling about how I was going to be an adult and the list of never-ending responsibilities it implied. See, I like having no real responsibility. I like the thought of being able to do adult stuff, without actually being an adult. I like being able to wrap a blanket around myself and cry in a pillow. But most of all, I love the fact that depression isn't frowned upon when one isn't considered an “adult”. I can clearly remember what Dad had told me barely a month ago:

“Mellie, the scars along your wrists...They are going to have to disappear. This type of self-destructive behaviour is understandable when one is a teenager, but that's not how an adult deals with her problems, alright darling? You have to find another way of coping with whatever is tormenting you.”

I'd nodded, but deep down, I was devastated. Cutting had been my escape for nearly four years now, the buoy that kept my head above of the raging waters of my mind during the Hell others call school. _How was I going to cope with living now? How was I going to feel alive from time to time?_

It was then I realized that adulthood was going to drown me painfully slowly, numbing everything into a robotic routine. I'd be just like my sister, and then eventually like my parents: I was going to wake up early in the morning, go to work, make some money, come back home, go to sleep. Again and again until I won't be able to work anymore. And when that would happen, my routine would be shortened to waking up in the morning, moving around a little, going back to sleep and hoping during every single minute of the day that Death will come ringing at my doorbell quicker than it did for my Great-Aunt Jane. She'd gone crazy before Death took her away, always rambling nonsense about traveling to the second-star to the right and saving a boy who'd been captured by pirates due to her own fault.

I decided I would have to find a way to kill myself before that'd happen. There was no way I'd lose my mind and start having hallucinations about things that didn't happen due to old age. I was going to die before my parents considered me an adult.  Which meant I had to end my life before midnight tonight.

I walk up the couple of steps leading to my doorstep and I open the door, stepping inside the household without so much as a peep. Cautious not to make a single sound, I tiptoe my way up the stairs and head into my room.

I drop my school bag on the floor and heave a sigh, looking around at my bedroom. The bright lime green walls that used to be when I was a little girl were now covered with black and white faces staring back at me with angry lines. They'd been my attempt at a new escape as I desperately tried to find something to dim the cutting urges. I failed. And beneath all the saddened graphite faces, my parents would find a suicide note tomorrow morning.

I start unpacking the books out of my backpack, placing them in a box in my wardrobe with the rest of my school supplies. Once that's done, I proceed to clean up the rest of my room, making it dust free. I even make my bed, thing I hadn't done for several weeks now. Somehow, the thought of leaving everything disorganized didn't seem proper. It didn't seem fair to force my parents to pick up their dead daughter's room. I owed them at least that, even if they hadn't exactly been the most caring and understanding people in the world.

As I stand in the doorframe to gaze at my handiwork, I'm called down for supper.

∞

I'm finishing up with the last of the dishes when my parents ask me to join them in the living room for 'small talk'.

I dry my hands off with a towel, wiping the rest on my jeans as I join them and take a seat.

“So. What's up?” I commence. I keep a detached yet composed face as I sit in front of them, knowing exactly what they're about to say. 

Harry and Amanda Peterson were serious people. Both CEO's of their own companies, they had what I like to call 'grey personalities', rarely letting any emotion apart from disappointment show. They lived life as if it was a routine and only the people who had everything planned out had a chance at success.

I don’t dislike my parents, but I don’t exactly love them either. To my eyes, they’re simply are adults in charge of me. I didn’t consider myself as their daughter because I was everything they weren’t: disorganized, dreamy and introverted. And I know that I was a disappointment simply from the way they’d look at me and shake their head. Maybe if I’d gotten more smiles and hugs rather than dissatisfied sighs and relentless “you could do so much better than that darling,” would I have loved them a little more, but life decided otherwise. I’d learned to simply go with it as time went, keeping my thoughts and feelings to myself because I knew they weren’t interested. In fact, nobody was interested. I was alone.

“Tomorrow is your eighteenth birthday,” my father begins. “And we want your entry into adulthood to be memorable,” he continues, his hand resting over my mother’s like a rock.

“We really want to give you everything you need to start fresh Mellie,” my mother nods, her position as void of feeling as her voice.

I frown. This speech wasn’t at all like the one they gave Chrystelle.

“We’ve arranged for you to start going to a facility for adults who are kind of lost in life. Who needs help finding the right direction.”

There’s a loud buzzing in my ears suddenly.

“What?” I whisper.

Dad pulls out a brochure from behind him and hands it to me. I don’t take it.

“Are you guys serious?”

“Very. We looked it up and it has a great success rate—“

“I’m in high school! I don’t have to have my life figured out already!” I burst, standing to my feet. “This is ridiculous!” I add, frustration bubbling inside me.

“Mellie this is only to guide you—”

“I do not need to be guided! I have time to sort things out: I’m seventeen years-old―”

“You’re going to be eighteen tomorrow. You’re going to be an adult. You need to start acting responsibly and take control of your future as soon as possible,” my father denies.

“I don’t want to take control of my future! I’m not ready for that!”

“With a bit a time, we could even let you in charge of our companies---”

“I do not want to live your life! It sucks!”

“Mellie they can help you with your situation…” my mother adds on a quieter note.

“My situation? This you mean?” I pull my sleeves up, revealing the series of angry red lines criss-crossing my arms. “It’s called self-harm! And it’s made me feel more alive for the last three years than any one of you two ever have for the last decade!” I state.

“Go to your room young lady. We’ll talk about this tomorrow morning,” my father demands, insulted. I glare at him. “Go right upstairs now!” he booms, standing up to tower over me.

“Gladly!” I snap, flipping on my heel and storming upstairs. I slam my door and let out a loud scream before exploding into tears and digging my face inside my pillow.

∞

It’s quarter to midnight when I sneak out of my house with the intention of never returning again.

I tighten my scarf around my neck as I walk decisively to the cliff barely a kilometer away from home, knowing that these few minutes would be the last I’d spend on Earth. The last I’d spend suffering.

I savour the feel of the wind on my face as I near the edge of the bluff, the pieces of rock and grass illuminated by the moon’s pale glow.  

As I stare down at the jagged rocks below, I breathe in shakily, feeling more alive than I ever was. I can’t help the tears from seeping out of my eyes. _Come on Mellie._ _You’re one jump away from ending your misery. Just a little jump and it’s all over._ I shut my eyes, a small sob escaping my lips.

“Please don't jump,” a masculine voice says behind me, startling me.

“Why not?” I cry, not turning around.

“Because you'd be missing out on so much,” the voice continues.

“There's nothing to be missing out on,” I shake my head, fat tears rolling down my cheeks. “I don't want to wake up every morning and go to work, only to come back home, go to sleep and do it all over again the next day!”

“But that's what adults do.”

“I don't want to be an adult!”

“You mean you're not an adult?”

I turn around, only to realize that I'm talking to a young boy, about three years younger than me. He's sitting cross-legged on a rock barely a few feet away from me, dressed in what looks like a handful of leaves and fabric. Everything about him is unsettling, his green eyes seemingly gazing right through me.

“You look like an adult,” he continues, eyeing me up and down with a frown.

“By midnight. By midnight I'll be considered as an adult by most of society,” I answer finally. “Go home...”

“Peter,” he supplies.

“Go home Peter. There's nothing you can do to save me,” I end miserably. “I've made my decision and I'm not going back on it. I can't go back on it. My parents have too much planned for me to head back.”

He cocks his head sideways, pensive. The moon gives a reddish glow to his brown hair. Something about his appearance seems oddly familiar.

“So you're willing to end your life only to stay a child?” he states.

“You're too young—you don't understand,” I shake my head, turning back around to face the edge of the cliff. His hand grabs my arm, forcing me to gaze back at him.

“If I told you that there's a place that can make you stay 17 forever, would you go?”

“Such place doesn't exist,” I shake my head. “Not in real life.”

He pulls away from me brusquely, as if my words had wounded him.

“You really are close to being an adult,” he states. “You've stopped believing.”

“Peter I'm sorry to break it to you but there's nothing to believe in---”

“I'll prove you wrong. I'll take you to Neverland and you'll see just how much there is to believe in,” he declares, taking my hand into his.

“Neverland?” I shake my head, piecing together everything. I take a good look at him. “Peter... as in Peter Pan? No. No it can't be,” I deny, taken aback. _The clothing, the eyes, the hair, Neverland..._ “I'm dead already aren't I? You aren't real,” I repeat, taking a step away from him and closer to the edge of the cliff.

“I'm very real.” He digs his hand in a little brown pouch on his belt, pulling a handful of gold dust out. His eyes zero on my wrists and a frown appears on his face. “I've seen those before: you can't think happy thoughts,” he realizes.

“This is nonsense,” I reply, talking to myself. “I'm seeing things like Great-Aunt Jane...” I take another step backwards. I hear the earth rumble before I feel it drop underneath my feet. 

 


	2. Squeal

The smell of humid earth fills my nostrils. I shift on my bed, frowning as the usual sound of creaking springs doesn’t come to my ears.

I open my eyes and I’m even more shocked to discover that the walls around me aren’t lime green. In fact, they aren’t even walls. A mass of roots and dirt are heaped up all around me, creating a makeshift room.

“You mumble in your sleep, you know that?”

My heart skips a beat and I squeal as I turn my body around to face the speaker. I fall upon Peter, sitting cross-legged at the end of the bundle of furs that acted as my bed for the night. _What happened last night?_

I dig into my head, only recalling my little chat with Peter. _But then the cliff gave out under me…_

“Where am I?” I demand, clenching the furs between my fingers anxiously. _I didn't die..._

“Somewhere in Neverland’s forest,” he answers, resting his chin in his hand whilst his gaze remained trained on me.

“Neverland?” I grimace, holding my head. “No I—”

“Yes Neverland. I told you it was real, didn’t I?” he boasts, grinning. “When you fell off the cliff last night, you lost consciousness but I caught you. And since you obviously didn’t want to keep on living with your parents, well I flew you to Neverland,” he elaborates. “You can stay here forever with me.”

“But—”

“Don’t worry, I’ll teach you everything you have to know. You won’t ever have to worry about anything ever again,” he presses. “I’ll teach you to sword fight and how to hunt the Indians and how to charm the mermaids”

“You don’t even know my name.”

He frowns. “You’re right. What is your name?” he enquires, finally standing up and off the bed. It’s then I take a good look at him. Oppositely to the classic Disney representation, Peter Pan did not have green tights, nor a hat with a red feather. The top of his outfit was in fact majorly made out of leaves and vines, but a piece of ripped brown fabric worked as shorts. And he was barefoot.

I look down at my own feet, realising that mine are just as bare as his.

“Why would I tell you? You kidnapped me,” I reply, scooting away from him.

“I did not kidnap you: I saved you. You didn’t want to live,” he rectifies, placing one hand on his hip.

“I did not want to be saved,” I stress.

“Correction: you did not want to grow up. I solved that problem by bringing you here.”

“Peter I—”

“You’ll change your mind as soon as you meet the Lost Boys,” he decides.

Before I know it, I’m pulled out of the pile of furs and urged down a moss-covered slide carved out of a tree trunk. I squeal as I slide down the dark whole, wincing as I reach the bottom. My toes sink in the soft soil. Peter places both of his hands to his mouth to project his voice, crowing loudly.

Out of the blue, a hoard of boyish tribal screams reply, before a series of boys tumble out of God knows where in front of me. I count five heads.

“Isn’t there supposed to be more of you?” I can’t help asking.

“Wendy and her daughter Jane took the others to some proper homes,” Peter supplies, a grimace appearing on his face. “But these ones are loyal! Boys! Line up and introduce yourselves!” he demands.

They hastily place themselves into a line in front of me.

“I’m Twig!” the first one starts. He seems to be the youngest out of all of them, barely ten according to me.

“Hunter.”

“Stealthy!”

“Pebble.”

“And I’m Ginger,” the last one ends, flicking his fiery hair away from his face.

I’m speechless as I stare at the five boys before me. Dirt caked their hands and faces, and quite similarly to Peter, their clothes consisted of a patchwork of leaves, vines and fabric.

“What’s your name?” Twig presses, stepping closer to me whilst cocking his head sideways.

“I uhh—”

“Where are the triplets?” Peter enquires suddenly. “Where are Trip, Trap and Trop?”

The boys all shrug their shoulders in ignorance.

“How original,” I mumble sarcastically to myself, standing up.

“Will you be our new mother?” Twig continues, still advancing towards me.

“I will be mothering no one,” I state, taking a step backwards for every one he took towards me. “I’m leaving.”

“But you just got here,” Hunter denies, his eyebrow cocking upwards. Judging by his height and lack of childish facial features, he must be barely a year younger than Peter.

“You should stay awhile!” Ginger nods, also moving towards me.

As I take another step backwards, something snaps under my feet. Next thing I know, I’m being hurled into the air by a net. I squeal in surprise, reflexively struggling against the rope surrounding me.

Giggles fill the air, followed by hoots of victory. Three boys pop out from nowhere, tooting and pumping their fists in the air. Soon enough, every single boy is laughing around me, including Peter.

“This isn’t funny!” I say, pulling on the net to no avail.

“She tripped--” one of the triplets begins.

“Now she’s trapped--” the other continues.

“But it’s time for her to _trop_ ,” the last one ends, before sending a dagger straight through the rope holding their whole trap up.

I groan as I brusquely drop to the ground, feeling myself getting bruised already.

“Now I get the names,” I mutter irritated, staying in a lying position on the ground. Pan chuckles, holding his hand out for me.

“That was fun wasn’t it?” he says excitedly.

“No, it wasn’t,” I grumble, still staying on the ground. “I want to leave.”

“Why?” Stealthy enquires, coming to stand beside Peter.

“Yeah why?” the Triplets repeat simultaneously.

I shut my eyes.

“I don’t feel well.” And it was true. Not only did I feel more depressed than usual, but a painful ache had started to attack my stomach.

“You do look pale,” Pebble acknowledges. “Maybe the Indians could help.”

My stomach rumbles at that exact moment.

“Boys!” the leader calls out again. “The lady is hungry! Hunter and Stealthy, go fetch her a wild boar or something similar. Ginger, and the Triplets, you’re in charge of bringing back some fruit. And Pebble and Twig, we’ll be needing some water!” he orders. “I want all of this back before the sun is high!”

“Right away Peter!” they reply immediately, eagerness lacing their voices.

Dirt and leaves are thrown around as they hastily grab their homemade weapons and crawl through random holes disguised with big pieces of tree bark and vines.

“You know, if you don’t tell me your name, I can always find one for you,” Peter begins, his green eyes twinkling.

“Yeah? And what would you call me?” I question, rolling me eyes.

“Squeal. You’ve squealed three times today already,” he points out, grinning. “It fits you.”

“It does not,” I deny, lifting myself to a sitting position.

“Well if you don’t want me to call you Squeal, what do you wish to be called?” he persists, sitting in front of me.

“Mellie,” I give up finally, throwing my hands up in the air. “My name is Mellie.”

“And what do your friends call you?”

“I don’t have any friends,” I grumble.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not a friendly person Peter,” I snap, losing my cool. He frowns and I sigh. “I’m sorry. I’m not a people magnet. My mood tends to push people away,” I elaborate on a softer note.

“What’s a magnet?” he questions.

“It’s an object that can attract certain things.”

“Things like what?”

“Metals for example,” I supply, shutting my eyes.

“What’s a metal?”

“Never mind Peter,” I huff, exasperated. “Let’s just say I’m not fun to be around,” I continue, taking my head into my hands. I can’t help noticing that earth has already managed to crawl under my nails. I feel it everywhere on me.

“Well I’m going to change that,” he declares, standing up. “Neverland is an island of fun, surely it’ll help you.”

I shake my head.

“Let’s do something before the Lost Boys return,” he decides.

“What kind of something?” I reply, curious.

“Anything you want. Name it and we'll do it.”

“I want to wash,” I admit. “I feel disgusting.”

“Why wash? You’ll get dirty afterwards anyways,” he counters.

“I need to think and there's dirt on every inch of my skin. Showers are perfect for both of these situations,” I reply.

“I don’t know what a shower is, but when we wash, it’s at the cove by the Mermaid Lagoon,” he reasons. “Would you like to go there?”

“Yeah that could work—”

“Great!”

I hold back another squeal as he pulls me up to my feet and drags me through a curtain of leaves, up a series of small wooden stairs and out of his underground hideout.

I’m tugged through a very thick bush before Peter releases me.

“I could've done all of that without you tugging me!” I state irritably, flicking the leaves off my clothes and hair. My feet sink into the soft bedding of leaves covering the ground around us.

“I know but I found this to be way more entertaining,” he laughs, the sound resonating in the forest around us. It sends a flock of birds flying away. “Come on then,” he continues, digging his hand into the little brown pouch on his belt whilst his own feet begin hovering above the ground. “We can fly to the cove―”

“We've been over this already Peter... I can't fly,” I remind him, staring at his floating form.

“Oh right. It's these lines, hmm?” He butts in, grabbing my wrists and eyeing my scars. “How many times have you fought?” he probes, his green eyes glowing with childlike curiosity.

“What?” I'm bemused by his comment.

“Against yourself.  How many times have you fought against yourself? How lost are you Mellie?” he enquires, his green eyes pouring into mine. I pull my hands to myself, uneasy.

“I'm not lost.”

“Tink once told me that the people who have these lines are fighting against a part of themselves that keeps them from finding the place they are searching for. If that's not being lost, then I don't know what is,” he responds simply.

“You can’t possibly understand Peter. You’re too…” I pause, taking a good look at the thirteen year-old boy, “young. You’re too young.”

He frowns.

“Fine then,” he states. “Keep your adult-like problems to yourself, I don’t care.  You don’t have to fly after all. You can just walk to the lagoon,” he shrugs. “I’ll meet you there. Just follow the trees with the blue leaves and you’ll fall upon it,” he ends dryly, before flying away.

“Well that escalated quickly,” I huff, looking around me. Gazing at the tense trees, I realize that I can't distinguish the bush through which I walked through to exit the hideout. “But it was right behind me,” I groan, doing a 360 degree turn on myself. My eyes fall upon a blue leaf. “I don't have much of a choice now,” I grumble, hugging my arms to myself as I take a step towards it. As soon as I reach the blue leaf, my gaze finds another one a few feet away. Exhaling loudly, I decide to follow Pan's instructions and let myself be guided by the blue leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still hoping for a teensy comment...XX


	3. Change

To my surprise, the blue leaves turn out to be sneaky little things. I’d follow them to the right again and again, until I’d realise that they’d made me go in a full circle.

“It’s not funny,” I exhale, rubbing my temples. There’s a ruffling as a light breeze tickles them before they lead me in a complete other direction.

Soon enough, I reach a big open area, crystal clear water stretching out in front of me. A mountain delimits the area, a small waterfall cascading out of an abnormally large crevice in the giant heap of rock.

“Took you long enough,” Peter states, pulling me out of my contemplation. I turn to see him lounging on a rock by the water.

“I'm not a fast walker,” I reply simply. “And the blue leaves wouldn't stop playing tricks on me. They literally made me go in circles once or twice.”

“Come on,” he sighs, standing up. “The cove's up there,” he continues, motioning the hole in the rock where the waterfall peacefully cascaded out.

I step towards the water but Peter stops me.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“How else am I supposed to get to up there then?' I reply, confused. “I can climb on the rock— ”

“Do you want the mermaids to drown you?” he reciprocates. “They don't take kindly to people swimming in their lagoon, especially not girls,” he presses. “I'll fly you up there silly.”

“No wait―”

He rapidly knocks me off my feet and hoists me in his arms, arms loosely wrapped around my body.

“No Peter put me down!” I protest, clutching his neck for dear life as he lifts a couple feet above the ground.

“Why?”

“You're going to drop me!” I say. “I'm too heavy for you!”

“Mellie I've carried coconuts heavier than you,” he laughs, flying even higher. “And besides, I carried you to Neverland, didn't I? You couldn't possibly have gained weight during the night,” he reasons, soaring up to the hole in the rock. I keep my eyes shut, knowing very well that I'd feel nauseous if I dared to look down.

But all of a sudden, my fingers slip and I'm falling.

I shriek as gravity eagerly pulls me downwards, my arms and legs flailing uselessly in the air. There's a splash and I'm brusquely swallowed by the water. It fills my eyes, nose, ears and lungs all at once. I start to panic.

Completely disoriented, I let myself sink to the sandy floor. As soon as my feet touch the sandy bottom, I propel myself upwards, arms flailing uselessly beside me.

I wheeze as oxygen finally makes way into my lungs while Peter's laughing his head off above me.

The cove resembles a small circular pool. Smooth rocks circle an uneven basin of clear water that empties out of the hole we've entered, but fills with a small spring coming right out of its walls. Just enough light enters, illuminating the whole basin. The waves are reflected on the cave's ceiling.

Pan's laugh echoes on the rocky walls while he's clutching his stomach.

“It's not funny!” I protest, swimming to the shallow area of the pool before pulling myself out of the water and onto the rocks. “Peter I could've drowned!” I continue.

“Of course not silly! I would've gotten you out before that!” he giggles. “But your face when you fell was hilarious!” he adds, hooting.

My drenched clothes drip noisily, forming a puddle around me. I stare down at myself in disbelief. “My clothes are soaked! What am I supposed to wear afterwards?!”

“They'll just dry out in the sun! Live a little Mellie!” he replies, still grinning.

I look at my sopping shirt and shut my eyes.

“Oh Peter!”

I frown as I hear a feminine voice call out for him from the lagoon.

“I'll be right back!” he states smirking, before flying out of the entrance and down to the lagoon without another word.

“Peter!” the voice cheers, joined by many other squeals of joy.

I hear giggles and the sound of water splashing. Curious, I head to the edge of the crevice, gazing down at the bottom of the peaceful waterfall and into the lagoon.

Mermaids. About five of them were eagerly crowding around Peter who was sat on a rock.

Rolling my eyes, I proceed to rapidly remove my soaked clothes and slip inside the water in my underwear. Shutting my eyes, I dunk my head under the surface once, pushing my hair out of my face as I come back up. I shriek as I open my eyes to find Peter's face inches away from mine.

He winces, flying a feet away as my hands scramble to cover myself under the clear water.

“Why do you keep squealing like that?” he enquires, cocking his head sideways. “I told you I'd be right back.”

“You shouldn't sneak up on people!” I retort, still attempting to cover myself.

“If I listened to you, there wouldn't be much I'd be allowed to do now, would there?” he huffs, sitting in the air crossed-legged. “Mellie you don't seem to understand that there are no rules here. You can do whatever you want as long as it makes you happy,” he states.

“You say that as if being happy is easy! As if it's a switch I can turn on and off when I want to!”

“What's a switch?”

“Not important­—”

“I don't understand...” he cuts, me off, shaking his head.  “You clearly weren't happy at home. So I get you away from home and bring you to Neverland but you get angry after me for saving you. I ask you what you want to do and you say you want to wash. I'm letting you do just that and you're still mad at me. Why does everything I do make you angry? I just want to make you happy Mellie.”

“You can't—”

“Why? Oh right. It's because once again, I'm too young, isn't it?” he sneers mockingly. “Well I'm sorry!” He doesn't even give me the time to reply. There's a whoosh of air and next thing I know, he's gone.

“Peter?!” I call out worriedly, still holding myself in the water. “Peter!” Still nothing. “That boy is driving me nuts already,” I grumble to myself.

“Don't worry, he'll come back.”

My eyes grow big as I hear a small tinkling voice. I quickly spin around in the water, only to come face to face with what I assume, judging by the sparkling wings and tiny figure, is a fairy. _Is that Tinkerbell?_

“It's not the first time he gets angry and leaves,” she adds, placing her tiny hands on her leafy dress. “I'm Dazzle, by the way. But most call me Zee.” _Not Tinkerbell then._

“I didn't know fairies could talk,” I utter, confused.

“How could you? You've been here for less than a day,” she states, shrugging her shoulders.

“But in the movie Tinkerbell—”

“Most movies about Neverland are nonsense,” she butts in. “The island and its inhabitants never stop changing because the children's dreams vary from a century to another. Everything changes except Peter,” she specifies. “The original “Peter Pan” novel was true back in the 1800's but lots have changed since then. For instance, Tinkerbell has long passed away.” Her face shifts to a saddened one.

I blink repeatedly.

“How exactly do you know all of this?”

The fairy rolls her eyes.

“We fairies are born in your world. We just don't stay over there,” she explains. “Look, I'll tell you everything you want to know in time. But now, what you clearly need is to get dressed,” she remarks. I cover myself with my arms once more.

“Peter soaked my clothes when he dumped me in the water. I can't possibly put them right now,” I object.

“Not those Earth clothes silly. You won't blend in with _that_ ,” she grimaces, motioning the wet heap of fabric on the rocks. “I'm sure we can find something for you at the Pixie Dust Tree. Some fairies specialize in Leaf Seaming. They'll have something for you,” she continues.

“I'd love to go with you, but I can guarantee you I'm not going through the forest in my underwear,” I state. The fairy pauses, looking at me up and down.

“Right. Wait right here then. I should be back in a couple minutes,” she declares, before fluttering away, leaving a thin string of golden dust in the air behind her.

For a moment, there's no sound apart from the constant water hitting water from the waterfall. I find myself letting the calmness of the situation seep into my pores, floating aimlessly on my back.

 _How do I want to live this whole situation?_ I question myself. _Could I really end up being happy here? What if the Lost Boys get tired of my negative attitude? What if Peter really loses patience and takes me back home? Of course he'll lose patience. They all do. And I don't blame them: I don't even tolerate myself. He's going to send me home and then I'll have to face reality. Chances are my parents have already seen my suicide note. And when I'll try to explain that I didn't manage to kill myself because of Peter Pan, I'll be sent to an asylum._

“Why are you crying?”

I rapidly stand in the water, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand before hiding my nearly naked body with my arms as much as possible.

“I'm not crying Peter,” I shake my head. “It's water from the lagoon.”

“No it's not. But it's okay.”

I lift my head up in wonder, and am taken aback. Not because Peter is sitting in the air in front of me, but because he seems different.

“I'm sorry I lashed out at you earlier,” he begins, his green eyes pouring into mine.  “You're allowed to be sad: I have no control over that. But I've talked to the fairies and they said that talking about it helps. But if you're not ready to talk about it, fine. I'll wait.”

I'm flabbergasted. He's not talking like a thirteen year-old at all. Heck, he doesn't even look like a thirteen-year old anymore. I take a good look at him. He appears to be taller and his face is sharper, lacking the roundness it had before he left. Even his limbs seem bulkier.

“Peter you've changed,” I point out, worriedly.

“What? No I haven't.”

His voice breaks slightly, reminding me of how most of the sophomores at school would talk.

“Have you seen yourself?” I enquire. The boy, no teen, gazes at his reflection in the water. His eyes grow big.

“Mellie what have you done?!” he exclaims, soaring to the ceiling of the cove in shock. “I'm nearly as old as you!” he complains.

“Nothing I swear!” I say. “I didn't do anything Peter!”

“I can't believe you! After all I've done for you so far, you've cursed me with aging!”

“I haven't done anything!”

“The hell you haven't!”

My ears sting. _Since when does Peter Pan curse?!_

Dazzle makes an entrance at that exact moment. Peter lets out a frustrated huff.

“Dazzle will take you back to the Hideout when you’re done. I can't even look at you right now Mellie!” he storms, glaring at me before flying out of the cove.

I shut my eyes.

“What just happened?” Zee frowns, staring at me.

Tears of frustration start filling my eyes before I can do anything. _I don’t understand that boy at all!_

“I don't even know! He came back and looked older so I simply pointed it out to him and he blamed me—”

“Well technically, it is your fault—”

“How?! How can it possibly my fault? I'm not a magical being like the lot of you! I can’t change one’s age!”

“Calm down Mellie...Breathe in and breathe out alright?”

I inhale and exhale, taking my time to settle the storm of emotions inside me. “I swear I didn't do anything Zee,” I get out once I'm positive my voice isn't shaky anymore.

”Did you happen to wish for him to be older?” the fairy enquires.

“No—”

“Did you blame the lack of comprehension on his age?” she rephrases.

“Well he asked me why I couldn't be happy and I told him he was too young to understand—”

“Then that’s what is happening. The island changes according to Peter and Peter changes according to the child he brings here. By telling him that he’s too young, you’ve forced him to grow up. And that might explain why he’s mad at you too. His younger self is still present in his thoughts... But don’t worry, his mental maturity will catch up with his physical one and he should be over it in no time. He's just a very moody teenager right now.”

“I robbed Peter Pan of his youth forever?” I ask, eyes growing big in fear.

“No! Didn't you listen to what I just said? Peter changes according to the child he brings to Neverland. If he brings a ten year-old, he'll rejuvenate,” the fairy huffs. “I promise he won't be mad at you when you'll return to their Hideout. He's probably play-fighting with the Lost Boys right now, getting his frustration out,” she smiles at me. “Now clothing. I brought you this!” Dazzle declares happily, holding what seems to be a miniature leaf dress. It's about an inch long.

“Not to be a pessimist here but I doubt I'll fit in that,” I say uncertainly.

“It's one size fits all. Fairy promise,” she shakes her head. “Get out of the water. I'll show you,” she sighs.

Feeling uneasy, I pull myself out of the warm water, keeping my arms around myself.

“Here.” She holds out the tiny thing to me.

My thumb and forefinger grab the miniature piece of clothing. To my great surprise, the bundle of leaves start growing in my hand, expanding exponentially. Soon enough, a human-sized leaf dress is before me.

“See? It adjusts to the wearer.”

I take a good look at the green outfit. Made up of vines and various types of leaves, it doesn't seem very resistant.

“Won't this thing break? What if it gets caught on a branch or something?” I ask.

“Just put it on Mellie. You'll see for yourself,” Dazzle sighs, turning around. I look down at myself.

“You don't happen to have spare underwear, do you?” I enquire, slightly embarrassed.

“You don't need any with these types of dresses. The leaves are chosen explicitly for this reason.”

Exhaling, I eye the dress dubiously before I hastily change out of my wet underwear and into it. I'm astounded to find that the dress is sturdy yet flexible. I can easily see myself running with it as if it was some Dry-fit clothing at home. Not only that, but the outfit is equipped with hidden leafy pockets, and the bottom of the dress covers shorts made out of a stretchy fabric.

“The shorts underneath the dress can be lengthened if you want,” Zee smiles. “Spider webs are very easy to weave these days,” she trails on.

I shudder, almost immediately wanting the thing off my body.

“Ready to head back to the hideout?” she enquires as I wring the water out of my hair.

“Do I have a choice?”

“Not really. Unless you’d enjoy a miniature bed in the Pixie Dust Tree?”

“Let’s go,” I sigh.


	4. SKizze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of new info... This chapter is dedicated to the five people who reviewed! :D thank you!

I make it out of the cove with Dazzle's help, the fairy sprinkling pixie dust on rocks so I could hop on them.

“How is it that rocks can fly and I can't?” I enquire once we're a couple meters away from the lagoon.

“Living things who don't come from Neverland not only need pixie dust but also happy thoughts. Since the rocks are part of Neverland, an island essentially made of happiness and dreams, they simply need the pixie dust,” Zee explains. “Same goes for the trees and even the animals.”

“Does Peter come from Neverland?” I demand, following the fairy as she leads me into the forest.

“Peter's case is complicated. He's been here for as long as anyone can remember, linked to the island by forces even we fairies don't comprehend,” Dazzle responds.

“But do you think it's possible for him to be a victim of gravity if he's unhappy?”

“I think he's too much of a free spirit to ever run out of happy thoughts, but that's just my opinion,” she shrugs as I keep following her.

“How did you know I couldn't fly?” I continue. “My scars?” I ask, reflexively bringing my arms closer to myself.

“Yes and no. Humans have an aura magical beings can see and sense. You aura is tinged with angry black and grey clouds, continuously filled with pain and sadness. Auras like yours are called Sullen Auras and they’re only talked about in our books.”

“Because Peter doesn't bring anyone with depression to Neverland?”

“Not necessarily...” she pauses, giving me a once over. “Neverland isn’t supposed to let them in.”

“What?” I stop, looking at the fairy in shock

“Neverland has a self-defence mechanism and since your aura has both the power to throw it off and destroy it or make it start anew, I find it curious it let you in. Last person who had your aura was brutally refused,” she explains.

“How brutally exactly?” I question, eyes growing big.

“He turned to dust,” she shrugs. “But it was one of Hook’s experiments to overthrow Neverland’s balance so it’s a good thing it failed.”

I mull over the information. _I could’ve died. Peter could’ve killed me by bringing me here. Why aren’t I dead?_

Dazzle flies in front of me.

“That makes me think. If word gets out of your aura to Hook, you could be in big trouble. Have the mermaids seen you?”

“No.”

“The Indians?”

I shake my head negatively.

“What about other fairies?”

“Only Peter and the Lost Boys know I’m here,” I say. “And you.”

“Good. Let’s keep it like that. Maybe Hook can’t see your aura, but that codfish can coax answers out of magical beings who can.”

We finally arrive at the Lost Boys’ hideout. I can hear their excited hoots from outside.

“Come on beat him Peter!”

“Hit him Hunter!”

I turn to Dazzle, worried.

“Don’t worry, they’re like this all the time: they’re boys with no responsibility whatsoever, in a jungle. You’ll get used to it,” the fairy laughs. “So if you need me―”

“Wait you’re leaving?” I frown. I’d honestly loved spending the last few minutes with her. For once, I wasn’t being pitied and my state of mind wasn’t overlooked as something easily altered.

“Yes well…We fairies are only allowed to stay with a human for a certain amount of time per day unless the Queen allows us otherwise,” she rubs her arm, looking at her feet.

“Oh.” I frown. “But didn’t Tinkerbell stay with Peter―”

“Mellie, I’ve told you the things you’ve seen in your human movies aren’t true,” she cuts me off swiftly. She sighs. “Rules are rules and I have to go. I might see you tomorrow though.”

“Okay then,” I nod, shoulders slumping a little at the thought of being stuck alone with nine boys. I take a look at the massive tree. “One last thing: where’s the entrance?” I turn around to face the fairy, only to realize she’s disappeared, leaving nothing but a small cloud of pixie dust in the air. I blink. “Great.”

Inhaling, I try to recall how I came out of the tree beforehand. _There’s was a thick bush and a curtain of leaves…_ I spot the said bush and carefully walk over to it. I try passing my arm through it and fail. It’s too thick to even consider making my whole body pass through.

“Well there’s goes that idea,” I grumble. I gaze up at the entryway at the top of the tree. “And I can’t fly so forget that.”

I shut my eyes and my stomach makes a rumbling sound. I let out an exasperated sigh.

“Now would be a great time to show me how much of a fun island you are Neverland,” I mutter to myself, slumping to the ground.

I squeal as the ground gives out under me, engulfing my body swiftly. My butt hits something hard I find myself sliding downwards. My hands feel around in panic, trying to slow down my fall but I grab onto nothing but dirt. I end up face first in a giant mass of moss. And I stay there, unsure if I should laugh or cry right now. _I must look like an ostrich right now._

“May I ask what you’re doing, Mellie?”

I glance up so quickly I get a whiplash. I groan.

The boy, Pebble I think, comes closer to me.

“Are you okay?” he giggles, a glass of I don’t know what in his hands. The liquid is a bright teal color.

“Yep. Just dandy,” I respond, sitting up properly. I notice I’m in the room where I’d woken up earlier. “Didn’t know whether to laugh or cry so I just stayed there,” I add, smoothing out my leafy dress. To my surprise, not a single leaf has been misplaced during my fall.

“You should’ve laughed,” the little black-haired boy says after a moment of thought. “You fell funny and didn’t get hurt. I think it’s a good reason to laugh,” he chuckles, blue eyes twinkling. “Anyways, you made me laugh.”

I blink. _Didn’t Pebble look three years younger this morning?_

“Maybe next time I’ll laugh,” I say finally, standing up to my feet.

“I hope you will,” he grins.

My stomach growls once more. Pebble takes my hand eagerly.

“Come! Peter and Hunter are finishing up their fight and then we can eat,” he informs, leading me in the direction of the hoots and yells.

I wince as we leave the ‘dormitory’ area and enter what feels like a zoo.

Under the opening of top of the Hideout’s tree, bathing in sunlight, stands Peter and Hunter in a small wooden enclosure. They’re surrounded by the six other Lost Boys, all of them hollering, jumping and throwing their arms in the air, cheering upon the fighting in front of them. There’s mud and leaves everywhere.

_And clearly, Neverland didn’t waste any time making them age._

Indeed, Hunter’s previous pre-teen look has swerved to the one of the boy’s in my class. His clothing appears to strain against his new muscles as he moves, just like Peter’s does.

I notice the triplets, not a day younger than fifteen, and Ginger, 16 at most, also have a glass of teal liquid in their hands, sipping at it occasionally before their faces break out into giant grins. Stealthy has downed his drink already.

I’m momentarily mesmerized by the combat in front of me as Hunter and Peter roll around in the mud, trying to overpower each other. Hunter temporarily manages to hold Peter on his back, before the leader pushes him off and soars into the air. Pan slams back into him, laughing.

“What’s in your drink?” I ask Pebble, eyes still focused on the fighting duo.

“Wanna taste?” he replies, holding out the wooden glass to me.

I take the cup, unsure. Before my eyes, the color shifts to a dark blue.

“I swear it tastes good!” Pebble encourages me, his gaze returning on the action.

It sure smells good. A mix of blueberry and black licorice.

“What do I have to lose anyways?” I exhale, giving up. I take a sip. The liquid bubbles down my throat like soda would. I lick my lips. The aftertaste is indescribably delectable. Something along the lines of butterscotch and mint. “What is that?!” I ask, taking another gulp because I’m thirstier than I thought.

“Don’t consume too much,” he laughs, grabbing the cup from my hands. “It’s not good in the long run!”

My eyes grow big.

“Is it alcohol?!”

“What’s alcohol?”

“Never mind,” I shake my head, not bothering to elaborate as my eyes focus on Peter once more. He appears to be struggling against Hunter, the latter visibly stronger. Mud flies everywhere as they wrestle against each other. “Come on Peter!” I yell before covering my mouth with my hand. _God I hope nobody heard me._

Pan swiftly flips himself around, nailing Hunter in the mud just as a bird screeches loudly, announcing the end of the fight.

The boys cheer and get in the enclosure as Peter flies up in the sunlight, crowing loudly. He gets back down, helping Hunter to his feet.

“Good fight Hunter,” he chuckles, tapping the latter on the back. “Time to eat!” he yells.

I’m still in shock as the stampede of boys head for the dining area of the Hideout. Peter flies over to me, landing in front of me. His closeness makes me uneasy. Especially considering the fact that he’s now a head taller than me.

“You too Mellie,” he states, motioning me to follow the rest of the boys. “You have a very pretty dress by the way.” There doesn’t seem to be a single trace of this morning’s anger left.

“I uh...” I frown, looking down at my feet nervously. “You know I did not mean for all of you to grow up so suddenly, right?” I say, ignoring his compliment.

He rolls his eyes, wiping some of the mud off his face and body at the same time.

“Of course. Neverland is sneaky and she does what she wants when she wants.”

“So you’re not angry at all?”

“I went to see the Queen and she told me I’d be young again someday. Might as well make the most of this while I can,” he shrugs, shaking his head. “I’ve never felt so strong and alive,” he adds. “The boys and I are loving the change.”

“You are?”

“Very much. Fighting Hook was already easy, can you imagine now that I have these?” he flexes his bicep. “It’ll be child’s play! And hunting the Indians? They won’t know what hit them!”

“I’m sure it will. Let’s go eat,” I counter, ill at ease with seeing Peter act like this. Like the boys in my class.

“I heard you cheer for me you know,” he tells me once we’re all seated and the boys are noisily stuffing their faces.

“Did you?” I grimace, sipping on the teal liquid Pebble had generously provided. I grab a piece of meat and plop it in my mouth.

“Mhmm. I’m glad you decided to participate. Even if it was just for a fraction of a second.”

I snatch a piece of bread and shove it my mouth, downing it with another gulp of the color-changing drink. My insides are fuzzy.

“What are we going to do this afternoon?” I question. “Are we going to do something fun?”

Peter frowns, looking at me. Hell, my own words surprise me.

“You don’t want to drink Skizze too quickly Mellie,” he warns.

“Skizze?”

“That.” He points the beverage. “How much did you drink?”

I frown, glaring at the cup. _How much did I drink indeed?_

“I’m not sure.”

“Pretty sure she’s at her second cup Peter,” Pebble intervenes, chuckling.

_Second cup already?_

“You should slow down,” he advises, taking the Skizze away from me. “Take some water instead.”

“No give her another drink! It could be funny!” the red-haired Lost Boy proposes.

“No it would not,” Peter denies firmly. I look at him in surprise. “And as for what we’ll be doing this afternoon…”

“We could play some hide and seek!” Stealthy suggests eagerly, flicking his brown hair out of his face. “But you know, with a little twist.”

“You always win at that game!” One of the triplets complain.

“We want to pick the game!”

“And it’ll be fair for everyone, including Mellie!” the last triplet ends.

“Oh yeah? And what game would that be?” Stealthy scoffs.

“Well…”

“We hadn’t exactly thought it through…”

“Maybe we could…” They frown, letting their idea hang.

“I know what we can do,” Hunter states, turning to me. “Are you afraid of heights darlin’?” he questions, his piercing eyes focused on me. I shake my head no, shivering at the intensity of his gaze. “Perfect. Then let’s go cloud jumping.”

There’s a chorus of cheers and hoots.

The thought alone makes my heart race. _Could we really jump on clouds? Touch the sky? Can I―_ My fingers graze my scarred wrists, pulling me harshly back down to Earth. _They can. But you can’t._

“You’ve forgotten a small detail: I can’t fly,” I butt in, to everybody’s surprise including mine.

“You don’t need to fly to go jumping on clouds silly,” Peter laughs.

“Clouds aren’t solid. I’ll fall through―”

“Love, you’ve forgotten where you are,” Peter chuckles, cocking his eyebrow upwards as his green eyes pour into mine. “You’re in Neverland,” he whispers. “And the clouds really are as fluffy and comfortable as they look.”


	5. Flirting

I’m still in awe as I’m sat high up in the sky, petting the frothy cloud under me. Yes petting. Because it actually purrs underneath my fingers, as if it was a lazy cat.

“Are you going to sit there for the rest of the day, darling?”

I look up brusquely to see Hunter take a seat beside me. I scoot away a little, uneasy as I wrap my scarred arms around myself. I’m not used to being this close to boys. Especially boys my age. It makes me self-conscious.

“You boys are going to have to arrange your clothes,” I remark, looking away from his mesmerizing eyes. “They’ve all become too small for you,” I continue, looking at Peter and the rest of the Lost Boys jumping from one cloud to another. The messy patchwork of leaves and twigs seems just about to break.

Ginger flips over the triplets, his orange hair flaming in the bright blue sky. I can see the gold specks of pixie dust holding him in the air as he lands a little beside the cloud.

“You didn’t answer my question Mellie,” Hunter chuckles, his gaze following mine. “The cloud jumping was for _you_ to have fun. Let loose a little. Get a taste at Neverland. Why are you sitting here all by yourself?”

“What if I fall? I can’t depend on pixie dust like the lot of you,” I counter, taking a rapid glance at the water below us.

“You’d think Peter’d let you fall?” he smirks. My eyes linger a second too long on the dimple in his right cheek. “You think I’d let you fall?” I blink. “None of us would let you fall Mellie,” he continues, standing up. He holds his hand out for me to take. I look at his hand, then up at him, then back at the boys in the clouds. “Come on darling, I know you want to,” he sing-songs. He leans in closer to me, his mouth suddenly right beside my ear. “Besides, it’s a fun way to flirt with death, don’t you think?” he whispers.

I bite my lip, my hand slowly sliding into his.

Suddenly, he harshly pulls me forwards, releasing my hand as I topple over the cloud with a small shriek of surprise. My bare feet land on a lower cloud before I’m bounced back up a few clouds away. I land on my stomach. I turn around, glaring at Hunter.

“What is your problem?!” I yell, irritated to say the least.

“First jump is always the worst!” he shrugs, smirking. “You just needed a little push.” I notice we’ve attracted the rest of the boys’ attention.

“A little push?! You fucking flung me over!” I continue heatedly.

“Tut tut. Watch your language,” he mock chastises. “There are younger ears around us,” he continues, motioning Pebble and Twig.

I grind my teeth and clench my fists, scowling at him as I think of a comeback. Then I get an idea.

I grab a handful of cloud under me, and throw it in his direction. It hits him straight in the face. A giggle escapes my lips at the sight of his grimace.

“Ha,” I state proudly as he wipes the wisps off his cheeks.

Hunter cocks his eyebrow upwards challengingly.

“So that’s what you want to play hmm?” he begins, bending down to roll a cloud ball. “Cloud fight!” he calls out before he pitches the white fluff in my direction. It flies past my head as I bend down.

“Yes!” the other boys yell in excitation as they all squat down to make ammunition. In a matter of seconds, tufts of cloud are soaring everywhere through the air. I find myself jumping on another cloud to avoid Peter’s throw, before bouncing on another one to avoid one of Ginger’s. It’s absolutely thrilling. I hit Twig’s leg before spinning to dodge Pebble.

“Triple threat!” the triplets call out, shooting at me simultaneously. I stumble backwards as all of their three cloud balls hit me square in the chest.

“You three are so dead!” I call out, rolling my own ball. They laugh, jumping farther away from me. I hurdle after them, not caring for a single second that death is looking at me from below.

I laugh as I hit one of them on the back and he falls on his face. He also laughs, shaking his head before getting back to his feet, wiping his cloud-beard.

“Is that all you’ve got Mellie?” he taunts.

“You wish!”

 They keep running from me as I leap from one cloud to another yet again. But the next thing I know, my foot lands beside the cloud I’m aiming for.

I barely have the time to register the fact that I’m falling that Peter is scooping me up in his arms. My arms latch around his neck reflexively as my heartbeat accelerates.

“Careful,” he chuckles softly, hovering right underneath the cloud I’d fallen from and away from sight. “Let’s sneak up on them, shall we?” he suggests, a smirk plastered on his lips. “Grab some ammo,” he instructs, looking at the cloud above us.

I hesitate to release his neck.

“You would be right to hesitate if I still was this morning’s thirteen year-old. But I’m not. I won’t drop you,” he insists.

Taking a deep breath, my arms release his neck and I reach for an armful of clouds.

“Now roll that into a big ball,” Peter continues. I do as he says, my stomach straining as I struggle to sit straight in his arms. “Good. When we’re above them, you simply have to tap the cloud and it’ll rain down on them. Sounds like a plan?”

“Yeah,” I nod, a little breathless.

He winks and flies us back over the clouds. The triplets still haven’t realised I’ve disappeared, running aimlessly through the sky. We soar over them.

“Now!” Peter calls out.

The three boys look up as a downfall of rain drenches them from head to toe. I can’t help giggling at their shocked faces.

My victory doesn’t last long though because the rest of the Lost Boys immediately retaliate, all of them shooting at Peter and me.

“Okay okay! You guys win!” I give up, shielding my face with my arms, laughing.

“Of course we win. Guys always win,” Stealthy boasts as Peter places me back on my feet.

“That is so not true,” I snort, removing the clouds off my leaf dress.

“Oh yeah?”

I look at him up and down. The 16 year-old boy appears to be made for agility and furtivity more than anything else. He doesn’t seem too sturdy on his feet.

“I’m pretty sure I could take you down in that little ring Peter and Hunter were fighting in earlier,” I say innocently.

“Oohh!” There’s a series of mocking gasps from the rests of the boys.

“I sense a challenge here,” Hunter chuckles.

Stealthy squints, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You could not,” he retorts.

“Would you be willing to bet on it?” I enquire.

“Heck ya.”

“I’m betting on Mellie!” Ginger states.

“No way, Stealthy is quick on his feet,” Twig denies.

“We’re rooting for Stealthy too,” the Triplets agree, their clothing dripping.

“There won’t be a fight,” Peter intervenes before Pebble can add anything. “When did you become so cheeky?” he turns to me, frowning. I feel the thrill I had seconds ago slowly vanish.

“Why wouldn’t there be a fight?” Hunter shrugs. “It could be very entertaining to see Stealthy gets his arse kicked by Mellie.”

“Mellie doesn’t want to fight.” I intertwine my fingers nervously, looking down at my feet. _It was a ridiculous idea. What was I thinking?_

“She’s the one who proposed it. Of course she wants to fight,” Hunter denies.

“It’s her first day in Neverland: she’s probably tired. It’ll be unnecessarily dangerous.”

“She looks fine to me.”

“She’s a girl. She hides her emotions well,” Peter argues.

“Why don’t you let Mellie speak for herself?” Pebble puts in annoyed, motioning me. I wince as I feel all the attention shift on me, the testosterone in the air practically vanishing.

“It was a bad idea,” I admit. “And I am tired. We should just head back to the hideout.”

“Let’s―Watch out!”

I’m forced onto my stomach as something black soars right by us, leaving a gaping hole in the cloud and a ringing in my ears. I blink repeatedly as Peter gets off me, flying higher in the air to get a proper look down below. I peek through the opening in the cloud, only to see a ship with dark sails. Its canons are out.

“Pirates!” Ginger calls out excitedly, also floating beside Peter. “Let’s rile them up a little!” he suggests with a grin, pulling out a sword from the arrangement of leaves on his body. “Taunt the ol’ Hook!”

Peter, just like the rest of the Lost Boys, seems excited by the idea.

“No don’t taunt any of them!” I beg. _They’ll notice you’ve grown_ _and they’ll try to find out why._

“Don’t worry. It’s just a game!” Peter waves me off. “Hey Hook!” he calls out, flying right below my cloud. “You missed! The old age must be taking its toll on you, huh codfish?!” he laughs.

There’s the distinct boom of another canon. I glance down at the ship. The canon ball is heading straight for me and I can’t fly up in the air like the lot of them. Suddenly, I’m frozen in fear, my heart skipping a beat as I see death approach quickly.

Hunter chucks me upwards right before the canon ball pierces the cloud. “Ah ah! Sorry to disappoint but you won’t die today darling,” he chuckles, holding me to him.

“You’re an ass, you know that?” I blurt out. “You keep making fun of my suicidal thoughts.”

His face shifts from teasing to serious.

“Does it bother you?” he enquires, setting me down on a cloud much farther away than the one where the boys were teasing the pirates. “Because I can stop if it does. It wasn’t meant to be mean. I meant it to be playful teasing. I’m not encouraging your suicidal tendencies. I like you alive,” he gets out rapidly, worry clouding his features.

_Does it bother me? Not exactly._

“It’s not bothersome…I’m just not used to being teased out of something other than scorn,” I realise, hiding my arms behind my back reflexively. _You like me alive? You don’t even know me._

“Do you want me to stop?” he repeats.

“If you want me to stop calling you an ass,” I shrug finally, a small smile creeping up on my lips. He smiles.

“You should smile more often. It suits you,” he compliments.

I blush, my eyes immediately dropping to my feet.

“Let’s go wait for the others at the Hideout, shall we?” Hunter enquires. “Unless you want to watch this?” he suggests, motioning the seven other boys flying around the ship. Ship that seemed to be rustling with activity. I squint, seeing a little man dressed in red shouting on deck. _That must be Hook_. I must admit, I’m intrigued.

“We can watch from a distance,” I respond, curiosity getting the best of me.

“If you don’t want to go back to the hideout, I’m not going to be watching love. I’m participating,” he shakes his head, hovering into the air. “Gotta few pirates to sort out,” he winks.

I roll my eyes as he flies away. _Boys will be boys._


	6. Burning

Perched on my cloud, I stare with interest at the action several feet below me, keeping myself hidden from the pirates’ view. Visibly, it’s merely a game for the boys whereas the pirates take the assault very seriously, charging the canons and brandishing their swords.

The captain is shouting at his crewmen whilst the Lost Boys laugh, some of them making the pirates trip on their own feet while others dueled in good fun.

“Peter come here and fight me like a man!” Hook roars while the latter crows loudly from the top of the ship’s crow’s nest, ridding it of its occupant with a haughty giggle.

“Good thing I’m not a man then huh!?” the green-eyed boy retorts.

The triplets send one of the men overboard and Ginger and Hunter proceed to send three more for a little dip in the water.

As the taunting persists, I find myself wishing I could fly down and join them, simply because mocking adults, especially pirates, has to be as amusing as it looks.

_But Mellie you can’t fly. You know why? Because you’re not good enough for Neverland. You’re poisoning it with your presence and your dark thoughts._

I shut my eyes, momentarily drowned by a wave of helplessness. My fingers clench around the cloud’s tuft. There’s a sinking feeling in my stomach.

I open my eyes, only to realize my cloud has darkened. Not only that, but it’s slowly descending below all the others, as if unable to hold my weight. As I feel gravity’s pull, I’m unsure if I should panic right away, the little voice in my head telling me it’d be so much easier to simply disappear and let myself get drowned in the freezing waters below.

_It would make everybody’s life easier if you weren’t there. You’re holding them down anyway._

Before I know it, there’s no cloud left underneath me, the whole thing dissipating under my fingers during its descent. The ocean swallows me whole just as I’m about to scream.

I open my eyes as my body sinks, seeing nothing but the dark water and rays of light piercing the surface. Something catches my eyes in the distance. Something very much alive and moving with what appears to be fins. _Shit._

My will to survive kicks in and I hastily swim up to the surface. I open my mouth to call for one of the boys as my head pops out of the water but then I bite my lip, recalling Zee’s advice not to let anyone but the Lost Boys know of my presence in Neverland. Unfortunately, screaming will get everyone’s attention.

I shiver, my mind going 300 miles an hour as I try to figure out how to get out of the water before the creature below the water gets to me. I nervously glance around me, searching for anything that can help me. There’s a cliff way too steep to climb on about 25 meters away, or there’s the beach, which not only appears to be farther in distance, but would also imply that I swim past the pirate ship and risk exposing myself to the pirates.

The fin tears through the water no less than 100 feet away from me, urging me to make a decision quickly. _At least with the beach, I can get out of the ocean._

Holding my breath, I plunge back into the water with large strokes, aiming for the beach. I push my arms and legs through the water as hastily as I can, keeping my eyes open despite the sting to be certain I’m heading the right direction. I feel a painful throb forming in my limbs, my body not used to this much exercise. Drawing doesn’t require this much physical activity.

I head back up to the surface momentarily, my lungs threatening to give up on me if I don’t give them a little oxygen soon. I take three deep breaths, mentally noting the fact that the ship is nearby. _If I can stay underwater long enough, the people aboard the ship are unlikely to see me._ Fear builds up inside me as I feel the sea creature’s presence approaching. Not wasting another second, I dive back under, arms and legs flailing under the water as I try to hold my breath long enough to get past the vessel. I’m praying to God no one will look in the water, realizing I’m not deep enough under to be invisible to anyone who’d just glance over the ship’s railing. The boat seems to stretch on forever as air begs to invade my lungs. I push even harder through the water.

My limbs start aching profusely just as I near the beach, head finally bobbing above water before I take lungfuls of air. Hope spreads through me. I’m barely ten feet away _. I can do this._

Suddenly, a cold hand latches on my ankle and pulls me backwards harshly, dragging me away from the desired destination. _A hand?! But I thought it was a shark!_ I glance at the creature who’s latched on me with its slimy fingers and end up face to face with a mermaid. With its black flowing hair, blueish skin, glazed over eyes, pointy teeth and prominent gills in its neck, the mermaid doesn’t look like the ones back at the lagoon at all. She appears to be pulled straight out of a horror movie, much like the gory one with piranhas. Her mouth latches on my foot and tears at the skin.

Screaming under water, I hit her face with my heel, forcing her to get her mouth off.

My legs are in so much pain I can’t even fathom fighting against her and her mighty fishtail as she attempts to drown me, dragging me deeper into the oceans icy claws. Her grip on my ankle so tight I know it’ll leave bruises. I try to kick her again with my free leg but to no avail, she simply ends up grabbing both limbs, pulling me deeper below even more rapidly.

Everything in my body is burning. I feel my brain shutting off due to the lack of oxygen. _Well it’s what you wanted anyways huh Mellie? Something to put an end to your misery?_

Someone dives into the water near me just as­­ I lose consciousness.

I’m surrounded by nothingness until water is forcefully pushed out of my lungs. My mind is foggy, the images in front of me unclear.

“Mellie? Mellie! Breathe!” A voice instructs. Hands push on my chest once more and I come back to my senses, spitting out water. “There you go.” I turn onto my stomach, hands grabbing handfuls of sand as the salty sea water is violently expelled once more. My breathing ends up ragged as I shut my eyes, laying in the sand in exhaustion. “Mellie look at me,” the voice commands softly, fingers tilting my chin.

Reluctantly, I open my eyes and am met with Peter’s worried ones. My head rolls sideways, only to see the rest of the boys forming a circle around me.

“Are you okay?”

I groan.

“I’m dandy,” I reply, voice hoarse.

“We’re going to get you back to the Hideout alright? Then you can change your clothes and get some sleep. I think you’ve had enough adventure for the day…” Peter continues, water dripping from his hair to his face. I nod, unable to do anything else. Every single one of my muscles is aching and my head is pounding.

I wince as Peter and Stealthy pull me up to my feet. I find myself unable to put any weight on my right foot.

“The mermaid…” I mumble, hissing. “She bit me,” I state, noticing the teeth marks beside the bruises shaped like her fingers.

Peter doesn’t waste anytime pulling me into his arms.

“Twig has the medicinal plant to cure its effects back at the Hideout. You’re going to be fine Mellie,” he continues.

In a matter of minutes, we’re back in the humid hideout and the leader is depositing me carefully on the bed of furs on which I woke up. The Lost Boys are all talking in hushed tones about the recent events. I can practically hear the annoyance in Ginger’s voice.

“She just had to try and kill herself while we we’re having fun, didn’t she?!” he grumbles.

I wince, curling into a ball.

“Don’t pay attention to him Mellie. Let’s get you out of these wet clothes—”

I manage to stop Peter as he moves to remove my dress, shocked to say the least.  His eyes grow big as he realizes what he was about to do.

“I’m sorry―I forgot―I’m used to the other boys I didn’t—”

“I’ll take care of her Peter,” a little voice states. _Zee._ “Came here just in time apparently,” the fairy continues as I sit up. “Out!” she demands, motioning the makeshift door to Pan with one hand. She has a little leaf outfit in the other.

She sighs as soon as he’s out, turning to me with her hands on her hips.

“What have you gotten yourself into this time Mellie?”

“I don’t—”

I grimace as pain starts licking up the veins inside my right leg.

“I’m going to help you get into something more comfortable and then we can tend to your wound alright?” Dazzle says, handing the tiny outfit over to me. The leafy creation, just like my dress, grows in my hands. I find myself holding something resembling a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. “I thought you’d like something other than a dress to sleep,” she explains. “Didn’t think you’d be going to bed now but…” she shrugs.

“Thank you,” I murmur, appreciating the action. Putting any modesty aside, I let the little fairy help me change clothes before nuzzling into the pile of furs. I whimper as another wave of acute pain shoot up my leg.

“Peter! Please tell me you have a few leaves of sunlyliss,” Zee calls out. Twig enters the room seconds later, holding orange leaves in a small bowl. The fourteen-year-old boy takes a seat beside my leg, not saying anything as he spits into the bowl and starts grinding the leaves together with a rock. The end up forming a fowl-smelling paste. Zee sprinkles it with the tiniest bit of pixie dust before Twig takes the paste in his hand and rubs it on the bite wound.

Immediately, the pain in my leg dies down, making me sink farther into the furs in relief.

“Thank you,” I tell him. He nods, leaving the bowl nearby before exiting without a single word. “They’re all angry after me,” I mumble. “They think I tried to kill myself to ruin their fun but I didn’t,” I continue, tears of sadness and frustration filling my eyes.

“…she couldn’t possibly...”

I shut my eyes, straining to hear what’s going on the other side of the door. I manage to distinguish Hunter’s low voice.

“She did not try to kill herself. If she would’ve had jumped off the cloud, we would’ve heard her splash since she was so high up. Something else happened.”

“Are you positive you placed her up on the highest clouds?” Peter retorts.

“Completely. I had hoped that the higher she was, the more she’d resist her suicidal tendencies because it’s clear she’s not very fond of heights.”

“Looks like she gave in after all,” Ginger scoffs. “We were wiping the pirates and she wanted attention—”

“She did not! Something unusual happened and only she knows precisely what it was. Until we talk to her, which will be tomorrow, it’s no use arguing over this.”

_Thank you Hunter._

“Not all of them hate you,” Dazzle remarks quietly, also listening to their conversation.

“Peter where are you going to sleep tonight?” Pebble intervenes.

“Since she took your room and all?” Another one agrees.

“We’re going to have another fight and the loser will end up sleeping on the ground!” he declares. There’s a series of cheers. I can only imagine his excited grin at the thought of proving his skills once more. I find myself sitting up, wanting to witness their fight.

“Sleep Mellie,” Zee advises, her small hand pushing me softly back into a lying position. “It’ll do you some good.”

“But—”

“No buts. Neverland has put you through enough today. This will help you,” she continues, gathering some pixie dust in her hand before blowing it onto my face.

Next thing I know, I’m dreaming a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reviewing and not giving up on me! I love you! XXX


	7. Fight

“Wake up Mellie,” Peter asks, shaking me softly. “Wake up.”

“Why?” I grumble, hiding my face in my pillow.

“There’s something I need to show you,” he continues, still shaking me.

“And it can’t wait?” I respond tiredly.

“No. No, it can’t,” he insists. “You can go back to sleep afterwards if you want to but I really want you to see this.”

I grimace, sitting up.

“What is it?” I mumble, wiping the sleep out of my eyes.

“I can’t tell you, I have to show you,” he denies, practically pulling me out of the bed. I wince as I find myself standing, a flaming pain climbing up my right leg.

“Peter I can’t walk right now—”

“I’ll carry you come on,” he retorts, hoisting me in his arms. “If we’re not quick enough, we’ll miss it,” he adds, hauling me out of the room. I can’t help noticing his facials features have changed once more, his cheekbones more defined, his eyes sharper. He appears to be two years my elder.

“Miss what?” I ask, shutting my eyes and rubbing my forehead with my thumb and forefinger.

“One of the wonders of Neverland.”

I’m as confused as ever as he takes me to the mud pit where the Lost Boys were fighting yesterday, placing himself underneath the open sky. It’s barely starting to lighten.

“You might wanna hang on,” he whispers in my ear. I don’t need to be told twice as the green-eyed boy—no, man, launches himself into the sky so quickly my stomach stays on the ground. The air rushes swiftly around us as I’m hauled higher and higher into the air, a gust of wind hitting my face a soon as we’re out of the Hideout. I keep my eyes tightly shut and my arms wrapped around Peter’s neck, suddenly wishing I didn’t hate heights so much.

Barely a few seconds later, his fingers carefully pry mine off his neck and I’m deposited on something soft.

“Open your eyes, Mellie,” he instructs lowly.

Furrowing my eyebrows, I proceed to do as asked. My breath catches in my throat. Sat on some of the highest canopies of the island, I can practically see Neverland in its entirety waking up. The sky has barely shifted from a navy blue to a pale teal, stroked with orange, purple, pink and gold as the sun leisurely rises above the horizon. I can even see the Jolly Roger, a tiny speck on the ocean from where Peter and I are sat.

“Wow, Peter…” I whisper, eyes trained on the spectacle before me.

“This is not the best part. Wait for it…”

As soon as he stops talking, I see it. A million little lights soaring out everywhere on the island. I squint at the nearer ones.

“Are those—?”

“Fairies yes,” he nods. “Every solstice, they start the island anew. They rejuvenate it.”

Only then do I notice that the plants around us are indeed lifeless, the jungle quiet. Deadly quiet.

My eyes grow big as a series of fairies fly by, their dust landing on leaves nearby. The leaves soak it in, their lifeless form shifting into a lively green one.

“That’s why fairies don’t live for long. They give themselves to the island,” Peter explains softly as the jungle around begins breathing with life. “Their dust is the key to Neverland’s youth. And mine. Or it used to anyways,” he frowns, giving himself a quick look over.

“I—”

“So are you glad I woke you up after all?” he cuts me off as a soft breeze caresses my skin, the island murmuring itself back to life around us.

“Yeah,” I agree, a little breathless.

Birds begin chirping, and I watch as the sky shifts to a pale blue.

“Ouch!” I wince. There’s a burning on my right leg. I’m surprised to see that a small fairy, one smaller than Zee, has sprinkled dust over my wound before flying away to follow the others.

“That was a healing fairy,” Peter states. “And they usually don’t heal humans,” he frowns.

The stinging in my leg has vanished and so has the ugly wound. There’s not even a scar left.

My eyes grow big. _It doesn’t heal humans but it chose to heal me, someone who can overthrow Neverland’s balance?!_

“This island is so confusing,” I mumble out loud.

“Why is that?” he enquires, folding his legs Indian-style.

“According to Dazzle, the island has mixed feelings about me. It can either love me or hate me. You said healing fairies didn’t help humans. One just did. I simply don’t understand why—”

“What do you mean the island hates you?”

“Something about my aura—”

“Fairies say a lot of bullshit Mellie,” he chuckles, interrupting me for a fifth time today. “After all, they are too small to feel more than one emotion so if Dazzle was scared, she told you something that would make you scared too.”

I bit my lip, doubting his words. Dazzle appeared to know what she was saying.

“And there is absolutely no way the island can hate you,” he continues. “It just can’t. Wanna know why?” He turns to face me. “Because I don’t. And the island can’t go against my will.”

“You don’t hate me yet because you don’t know me. You have no clue what I do to people. Peter, I discourage them. You’ll give up on me like so many before you,” I state morosely.

“Did you jump off that cloud yesterday?” he enquires suddenly, changing the subject much like a child would.

“No. Of course not. I’ve never been a fan of heights, and you know that. I’m always afraid you’ll drop me when you decide to whisk me up in the air. Why—”

“No need to raise your voice. In my defense, I did find you when you were on the verge of jumping off a cliff,” he counters. “And no one saw anything yesterday. You simply ended up in the water as soon as our backs were turned.”

My jaw tenses.

“Peter, can I explain the whole thing without being interrupted? Please? That’s six times you’ve interrupted me in the span of ten minutes,” I declare. He might look more charming with his stronger form, his mischievous forest green eyes and his wind-swept shock of brownish-reddish hair, but he clearly has to learn a thing or two about respect. _And I’ve got to stop scrutinizing him._

“Here’s an idea: I take you back to the Hideout and you explain everything to the lot of us. That way, you won’t have to repeat it over and over again,” he reasons, hovering to a standing position.

“Great idea,” I acknowledge.

“I know,” he smiles. “So how do you plan on getting down the tree?” Peter enquires, sitting in the air, grinning at me.

“I -uh- what?”

“You don’t like it when I 'whisk you up in the air', as you so poetically put it. So have you got another idea?” he elaborates, motioning around us.

I blink.

“You know I don’t. Why are you toying with me?” I say finally.

“I’m not toying, I’m teasing,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “It’s just a habit. I’m sorry. Now come on.”

Next thing I know, I’m being knocked off my feet and into his arms. And as he laughs, I know today is going to be a long day.

 

∞

 

The breakfast the Lost Boys have come up with is surprising to say the least. They’d managed to scramble and cook quail eggs, adding meat and fruit I can’t even name to my plate. Never in my whole life had I seen so many different colored foods in a single portion. Nevertheless, my stomach was full by the time I was finished, calming me down relatively before I would explain yesterday’s happenings to a bunch of teen and pre-teen boys who thought I tried to kill myself to ruin their fun.

I swallow thickly as I feel more than a dozen eyes staring at me expectantly. I nervously play with my leaf dress, unsure who to look at from the end of the table.

“Why isn’t she saying anything?” I hear Ginger whisper to Stealthy.

“Because all of you fuckheads staring at her are making her nervous,” Hunter rolls his eyes, leaning on a dirt wall beside the table. “Even the pirates have had kinder stares.”

“Tone it down, boys” Peter agrees finally. “Mellie is fragile.”

I almost want to contradict him, tell him that any girl surrounded by a bunch of boys would be just as nervous, but I keep my mouth shut noticing how their glares soften to inquisitive ogling, their stances much less menacing and more relaxed. _At least they try to appear less intimidating._ I decide to focus on Pebble at the far end of the table, his blue eyes filled with genuine curiosity rather than accusation.

“I didn’t try to kill myself yesterday,” I begin.

“Like we believe you—”

Peter smacks Ginger behind the head, silencing him.

“No interruptions,” the leader instructs. “From anyone,” he adds, looking around.

I bite my lip, suppressing a giggle. _That’s rich coming from him. Why did I want to giggle?_

I shake my head, taking another deep breath.

“Anyways, yesterday, the cloud gave out under me. It slowly descended towards the ocean until it disappeared completely. Poof, vanished under my fingers. That’s how I ended up in the sea. I did not want to ruin your fun.”

I’m responded with complete silence.

“But that’s impossible,” says one of the triplets finally.

“Completely impossible,” agrees another.

“Thoroughly impossible,” acknowledges the last one.

“Nothing’s impossible in Neverland,” Pebble contradicts. “Though Neverland wouldn’t try to kill you without a purpose.”

“Neverland wouldn’t dare to kill Mellie,” Peter retorts harshly.

“Unless you did something that angered it,” Hunter supplies simply, his eyes locked on mine. “Did you?”

I think back to yesterday. _I didn’t do anything apart from… thinking unhappy thoughts. Depressing thoughts._ I frown, slowly putting the pieces together. _My aura. It must have something to do with it. Zee said my aura, Sullen Auras, had both the power to destroy or restart Neverland anew.  It would make sense that Neverland would attempt to kill me if it realizes that I’m unhealable._

“We can all see the gears turning in your head Mellie. Speak up,” Stealthy huffs.

“I didn’t _do_ anything… But I _thought_ things,” I say finally. “Sad things. Depressing things.”

“You think it’s about what Zee told you, right?” Peter scoffs, shaking his head dismissively.

“It has to be Peter. There’s no other explanation. Neverland doesn’t trust me. And I don’t blame her.”

“That’s exactly it Mellie,” Hunter states. “For your sake, I’d start believing and trusting in yourself because this island can be pretty nasty when it’s not on your side. If it sees you as a threat, it will defend itself. Very subtly at that.”

 _Will the island never stop attempting to kill me then? Great. Fucking great. Now I have to worry about that too._ _But why would it even take the risk to be destroyed by letting me in in the first place?_

“I need to have a chat with the Indian Chief. This doesn’t make any sense and he’s the one who knows most about the island’s behavior,” Peter states. “I’ll clear this up for you Mellie alright? Dazzle told you some serious bullshit and you let it get to your head. Neverland is linked to _me_. I decide who’s in danger and who’s not,” he ends before flying out.

The Lost Boys grumble between themselves, not knowing what to do with the new information.

“Hey I know what we can do today!” shouts Stealthy suddenly. “Let’s go hunt some Indians! If Peter’s gonna be talking with the Chief, it won’t take long for the release negotiations afterwards!”

The boys cheer, spurred on to say the least.

“But what about Mellie?” Twig pipes up. “She can’t come hunting with us.”

My throat tightens as he’s responded with a series of discouraged groans. _I know I’m not wanted. Don’t remind me._

 “I’ll stay with her if she wants to stay,” Hunter intervenes. “I don’t mind taking things slow today.”

“Why can’t she come and hunt with us?” Pebble asks, frowning.

“Cause she’s a girl,” Ginger scoffs. Something stirs inside me. I clench my fists. “A suicidal girl at that. And Hunter you can’t possibly stay with her, you’re our best asset!” the red-head complains. “She can stay here on her own! At least then she won’t cause any trouble—”

“Excuse me,” I butt in. “But it doesn’t mean that because I’m a suicidal girl that I can’t hunt. In fact, my penchant for death makes me more apt to take risks.”

“Makes you dumber too,” Stealthy scoffs. “Unnecessary risks are plain stupid.”

“You know, I offered to take you on in the ring yesterday,” I counter. “Are you still up for that challenge?” I turn to face the rest of the Lost Boys. “I could prove you lot that I can fend for myself and hunt the Indians with you.”

“You won’t beat me,” he denies. But I can’t see a spark of doubt in his pale eyes.

“I will and when I do, I do not want to hear another sexist remark out of your mouth,” I reply confidently.

“Who are you and what have you done with Mellie?” Hunter smirks beside me.

“Must be something I ate,” I shrug, the shadow of a smile forming on the corner of my lips.

“Okay, then it’s on,” Stealthy agrees finally. “If you manage to hold me down in the mud for more than five seconds, you win, we let you hunt with us and I won’t be making anymore sexist remarks. But if I win, you stay here on your own and you wash the Hideout from top to bottom, like a good housewife would.”

I take a rapid look around. He’s right, the place is a mess. And it would be hell to clean up.

“I’d like to add to the challenge,” Hunter intervenes. “If she wins, we’re the one’s that have to clean up our respective beds and living area. We’ve let too many things pile up.”

“You’re rooting for her?” Ginger jeers.

“You bet I am.”

“Okay then if you add to the challenge, I’m adding a last part too,” Stealthy agrees. “If I win, you have to kiss me, Mellie.”

My eyes grow big. _Kiss him?!_ It’s not that he’s not good looking, he is. All of the boys are, to be honest. _But giving away my first kiss in a challenge?_

“Stealthy you can’t ask that,” Hunter denies firmly. “Peter wouldn’t be okay with that.”

“Peter or you?” Ginger retorts cockily.

“If you want a fist in your face, I suggest you keep talking,” the older boy warns lowly.

“Okay deal,” I end before this starts into another argument. “I’m going to win this anyways Hunter,” I add.

“Alright. Everyone to the mud pit!” Pebble calls out.

A couple minutes later, I’m ushered into the enclosed area where Peter and I were this morning, this time facing Stealthy. I give him a quick once over. Obviously, he got his name for a reason: he’s built to be swift and precise in his movements. But not strong and daring in the face of danger.

I know I’m strong. My younger gymnast years had toughened my articulations, strengthened my muscles and pressured me into striving for nothing less than perfection. Question is, were these years too far away? I guess I’m about to find out.

I crack my knuckles; a nasty habit I’d practiced every time I was nervous before an event.

“Mellie don’t forget one thing,” Hunter cautions as soon as he’s done explaining the general rules to me. “Have _fun_ ,” he whispers in my ear, his body inches from mine before he steps back. Rules are pretty simple: no biting, scratching, hair pulling, avoid the face and no purposeful aiming for genitalia. The winner is the one who gets the other’s face in the mud for more than five seconds.

“You got this Mellie!” he cheers, getting out of the enclosure to watch from the side.

“Yeah you go Mellie!” agree two of the triplets.

The third one joins Twig and Ginger on their encouragements to Stealthy. I don’t hear Pebble.

“Ready little Mellie?” My opponent taunts.

“Are you?” I retort, “I have a feeling we’ll be wiping your tears when I’m done,” I continue, feeling overly confident. _I can do this. I have to prove them wrong._

 “Ready, set, fight!” They all call out simultaneously.

I feel the adrenalin mounting inside me as we turn in circles, always facing each other. I don’t want to make the first move. I know he won’t either. He’s furtive and swift and that’s what he’s going to put his energy on.

_Come on Mellie. Make the first move._

Exhaling and inhaling once, I pounce forwards. He moves aside at the last second, and I end up face first into the mud.

Next thing I know, he’s on me, attempting to hold me down. His arms wrap around my body, his knee pressing into my back to hold me down.

“1! 2! 3—”

I quickly manage to twist myself around, and push him away from me, the pale-eyed boy sliding to the other side of the enclosure due to all the mud.

I easily get back on my feet, pushing myself up from my back with my hands, executing a back walkover. _Easy._

“How did she do that?” I hear Pebble ask.

“Are you being gentle with me Stealthy?” I mock, wiping some of the mud from my face. My back aches a little. _Okay, not so easy._

“Thought I’d give you a little chance. You are a girl after all…” he responds, smirking.

I charge towards him again, but this time, instead of aiming for his upper half, I aim for his lower half. I manage to get my grip on one leg before he can move away, sending both of us to the ground.

We roll around in the mud, the two of us fighting for the upper hand.

“Come on Mellie!”

“Go Stealthy!”

The cheers are mixed around us and the sound ends up being a faraway buzz in my ears.

Stealthy sends his fingers into my side harshly. I curl up on myself reflexively out of pain, resulting in him begin on top once more.

“1! 2—!”

I ignore the aching, uncoiling his fingers from around my arms as I send my elbow into his stomach and scuffle to a standing position. A stable position.

Both of us are back on our feet for barely a second before he’s encircling his arms around my body once more. I can feel the warmth emanating from the 17-year-old’s body, making me slightly uneasy.

“You have no idea how much I like having power over a woman like you,” he murmurs in my ear.

“You have no power over me,” I state lowly, twisting and turning my body around to get him to release me. I try getting my legs to destabilize his to no avail. Both of us are too steady on our feet.

Then I get an idea. Grasping his forearms tightly, I send myself forwards in the mud, using my weight against him to throw myself into a roll. I end up falling on him, knocking the air out of him.

“Fucking hell,” I hear someone curse.

Stealthy grabs a handful of my hair just as I’m about to stand.

I whimper.

“No hair pulling!” Twig calls out. “30-second timeout! Both of you back to your initial positions!” He calls out, refereeing the whole thing.

“Princess doesn’t like her hair pulled?” my opponent mocks as the two of us stand once more, getting back to our opening places.

I don’t answer. _You want to play dirty? I’m going to play dirty too._

“Ready, set, fight!”

To my surprise, he’s the one who makes the first move this time. He runs towards me and freaking slides between my legs, using the mud. I turn around to find him already standing behind me. _Both of us are stable on our feet. I need to destabilize him._

I move to hook my arms around his neck to pull him downwards but his larger hands stop me and hold my tiny fists tightly in front of him. He smirks. I decide on my next move within a split second. _You can do this Mellie._ Swiftly, I jump and let him hold my weight for a mere second before my feet collide with his chest with all the strength I can muster, giving me a boost upwards. I tuck my legs, bringing my hips over my head to complete the back flip before landing on my feet.

He staggers backward, the movement way too forceful on his weaker body. I seize the moment to tackle him to the ground, mud flying everywhere. My hands grab his wrists, flipping him around so his face is in the mud. I lock his arms securely behind his back, successfully pinning him to the ground.

“1! 2! 3! 4! 5! Mellie is the winner!”

To my surprise, there are no cheers. Just awed silence.

“You can release me now,” Stealthy grumbles from underneath me.

“You flew Mellie!” Pebble exclaims finally. “I don’t know how, but you did!”

“No, I didn’t,” I deny, getting off Stealthy. “I can’t fly. That was just basic gymnastics.”

“What are gymnastics?”

“No, no, no, Mellie. You flew,” Hunter agrees. “Right before your flip. You didn’t realize it but you were at least five meters up in the air. You were flying. Without pixie dust.”

“Anyhow,” Twig breaks in, “Mellie won so she can come and hunt. We’ve wasted enough time already so let’s go!” he urges.

The triplets cheer, Ginger sighs exasperatedly and Stealthy stays mute.

“Did I hurt your ego?” I enquire, treading softly. “Sorry for belting out ninja moves—”

“What’s a ninja?” Pebble demands.

“It’s fine Mellie. You fought well and I have no doubt you could resist a pirate or an Indian for a couple seconds if he’s not armed,” Stealthy waves me off.

“Is that another challenge?” I say. “You want to fight with weapons?”

“Maybe,” he shrugs before he follows the rest of the boys to fetch his weapons. I chuckle, shaking my head before turning to Pebble.

“Gymnastics is a sport involving the performance of exercises requiring strength, flexibility, balance and control. A ninja is a very agile warrior from Japan,” I say, answering his previous questions. The twelve-year-old boy smiles.

“You are a gymnastic ninja then,” he decides before following the others.

I turn around, only to bump into Hunter’s firm chest.

“Careful there,” he laughs, his hands latching softly on my arms. His thumb reaches on a speck of mud in my face. “You were amazing out there,” he states. “You fight better than the Indians.”

“Not better. Probably different,” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper due to his close proximity. I take a step backward. “Do you think we can stop by the lagoon so I can at least wash my face-off before we do some hunting?” I enquire.

“No problem,” he agrees.

Several minutes later, the both of us are silently heading to the lagoon when suddenly, Hunter pulls me harshly behind a bush.

“What—”

“Shhh,” he presses his hand on my mouth to silence me, his gaze intense.

I strain my ears to hear what has got him so nervous. The sound of shouting men as well as water splashing comes to me.

“Hook,” he whispers. My eyes grow big. “Keep quiet,” he instructs, his hand sliding into mine as he leads us closer to the commotion. Closer to the lagoon.

“Hunter we shouldn’t—”

He presses his finger on my lips warningly.

I exhale shakily, nodding once in understanding before following him reluctantly. We end up crouching behind a large rock, about fifteen meters away from the edge of the lagoon. I peek over the rock and my breath gets stuck in my throat. There’s blood in the lagoon. Lots of it. And it’s oozing right out of a mermaid. The beautiful creature has been tied to a rock, her hands and tail immobilized with daggers. Her purple hair is stained with burgundy blood, cascading over her shoulders and barely hiding her breasts. She looks nothing like the mermaid that attacked me yesterday, but something tells me that under the water, she’d undoubtedly look similar.

The lagoon is crowded with small boats filled with pirates pointing their swords at the water. The handful of boats surrounds the main one, the one with their captain, James Hook. He appears to be leading a very painful interrogation for the sea creature.

Hunter pulls me down, face pulled into a grimace.

“This can’t be good. The codfish doesn’t usually dare to harm mermaids. Even less torture them,” he says mostly to himself. “Come on, let’s go Mellie.”

  _Zee said Hook can coax information out of beings who can see my aura. Did yesterday’s mermaid see my aura?_

I take another quick glance over the rock, wanting to get a proper look at the feared Captain.

He’s definitely imposing in his flaming red jacket trimmed with gold. Everything about him screams sophistication and power. Disney movies make him look like such a dumb villain when in reality, every single one of his moves seems calculated. And he’s only standing on a boat. Torturing a mermaid calmly. I can’t imagine what it would feel like to defy him. Or look him in the eyes.

I suddenly wish for him to turn around, simply to look at his face and see for myself if his eyes are really as blue as forget-me-nots.

I catch a glimpse at his fearsome claw, the metallic appendage gleaming in the sun as it slowly tears through the mermaid’s fin. The scream is horrifying.

I shudder, sinking to my knees behind the rock.

“He’s—”

I turn to Hunter, only to realize he’s not there.

“Well well, what do we have here?”

My blood stops in my veins as the sharp edge of a sword ends up at my throat. My eyes follow its length before landing on its owner. A pirate. One of Hook’s pirates. Fuck.


	8. Magnet

His disgusting hands are quick to latch on my upper arm, his blade nearly nicking my neck due to it’s proximity.

“Capt’n!” he calls out gruffly, pulling me roughly out of my hiding spot. “Look’a ‘ere what’ve found hidin’ in the bushes!” he states proudly, dangling my small form up in the air for his captain to see. His rapier grazes my side and as I’m dangling in the air like a weightless sack, my eyes finally lock with the dreaded forget-me-nots. A strong shiver racks my body, his sharp gaze seemingly piercing right through my soul. The pirate Captain’s eyebrow cocks upwards, shock passing his features for a mere second before it’s replaced with gracious satisfaction.

“Men, I think we’ve found what is changing Peter and his band of miscreants into reckless young men…” There’s a series of hoots and snickers as Hook says this, making his lips curl into a smile. “A young woman of course.”

I grit my teeth and clench my fists as more cackles follow. I seize this moment of inattention to shove my foot between my captive’s legs as hard as I possibly can.

The pirate groans, releasing my arm as he falls and holds his precious family jewels, moaning in pain.

I’m quick on my feet, leaping for the forest to get as far away as the sea bandits as possible. The whistling of a bullet near my ear stops me brusquely, its passing heat grazing my skin.

“Take another step forward darlin’, and I won’t miss yar pretty head.”

I turn around slowly; the distinct sound of steel being pulled out of belts resonating through the air. A handful of pirates are suddenly surrounding me, one of them with his gun aimed at me. I feel my anxiety mounting. _Where’s Hunter?! Where’s Peter?!_

“Mr. Cecco, drop the pistol. That was no way to treat a lady,” the captain’s strong, masculine voice slices through the air like a knife, his tone, though reprimanding, tainted with mockery and contentment. His dinghy, oared by whom I can only guess is Mr. Smee judging by the red hat and white beard, is leisurely approaching the lagoon’s shore. “All of you, what is this uncivilized behaviour? Lower your swords. This is no filthy Lost Boy we’re dealing with, but a lady.”

I watch with horror as he wipes the mermaid blood off his gleaming hook with calm and composure with a handkerchief.

The man appears to be in his late twenties, even though deep down I know he must have at least a hundred years behind his belt. His black, curly hair slides a little past his shoulder, his making him look very much like Hook in the 2003 movie I’d enjoyed when I was younger. I can’t help noticing that his blood red outfit makes his eyes pop, even from below his large feathered hat.

“I’m terribly sorry for this boisterous behaviour, milady. We’re not used to such _delicate_ company,” the Captain continues, his large black boots finally digging themselves into the sand as he steps off the small boat. “We are but rogues of the sea, after all,” he continues, bowing deeply before me, lifting his hat. “Captain James Hook at your service,” he introduces himself, his penetrating eyes fixed on me the whole time.

“I know who you are,” I state. “And I’m not delicate.” I hide my scarred forearms behind my back.

He takes a step forwards and I reflexively back away.

“You shan’t be afraid darlin’. It’s not in our nature to hurt women.” He sends a pointed look to the pirate called Cecco. “We just want to parley.” he declares calmly.

“Like you _parleyed_ with that mermaid?!” I scoff. “No thanks, I’ll pass.” I turn back around to the forest, careful to keep the angry red lines out of his line of vision.

The group of pirates tightens its circle around me and Hook chuckles.

“She’s not dead you know,” the Captain trails on, his tone dangerous. “Do you wish for us to release her, girl?”

“Don’t call me girl,” I spin back around quickly.

“Well then, what shall we call you, darling?”

“Nothing. I’m leaving. You will not call me anything.”

There’s a short moment of silence.

“You’re linked to her, aren’t you?” he realizes, his brows furrowing in a mix of shock and amusement. “Wendy Darling. You have her eyes.”

“You’re mistaken.”

“Am I? Pan is known to be a creature of habit…” His tone is pleasant, yet filled with mockery. Then it clicks. _Of course I’m linked to her. Great-Aunt Jane’s mother was named Wendy. My Great-Grandmother. Which would explain Great-Aunt Jane’s continuous rambling of pirates. Why didn’t I realize this beforehand?!_

_Because you’re too busy focusing on your own wrecked life to care about those around you._

I wince as my subconscious reprimands me once more, inhaling and exhaling shakily. I feel uneasy still surrounded by the armed pirates, my palms clammy.

“You shall release the mermaid,” I say finally, ignoring his remark.

“This is not how parleying works. I shall release the mermaid in exchange for something else.”

“I know how you work Hook—”

“Oh do you? Has Pan filled you in on all my horrible doings?” he scoffs, his left thumb and forefinger playing aimlessly with the tip of his hook as he speaks. “Or was it your Great-Grandmother and her horrid daughter? Did they also happen to tell you how they left me for dead not once, but twice? First time to the ravenous hunger of a croc, then to the tentacles of a cursed octopus,” he continues, his whole body tensing at the memory. “I had to claw myself out of the crocs guts and sever every limb from that disgusting cephalopod.”

I blink. _So a big part of the movies was true. How much did J.M. Barrie and Mr. Disney know about Neverland exactly?!_

“Pirates are not known to be the most honest folks, especially not pirate captains,” I supply finally. “I cannot trust anything you say.”

“Milady, if you were one of those wretched boys, you’d be right to mistrust my intentions, but this is not the case. I give you my word that no more harm will come to this mermaid if you simply give me the information I seek.”

“Your word doesn’t mean much,” I spew. _The word of a pirate! Does he really think I’m this daft?_

“Every pirate has his code of honor and I’d rather lose my other hand than break mine. When I give my word, I respect it. ‘Tis simply bad form to do otherwise.”

Anxious as the pirates close in around me, I feel pressured me to pronounce my next words.

“Fine. What is it you want then?” I give in, knowing very much I wouldn’t be released until he was given an answer. “What do you want to know so badly you had to harm a mermaid?” I continue, peeking behind his shoulder at the still bleeding half-woman, half-fish.

“Do not pity the creature. It’ll drown you the first chance it gets,” the blue-eyed man states. He turns to the dozen members of his crew.  “And men, do take a step back please. The poor lass can’t breathe,” Hook orders sharply, clearly noticing my discomfort. He himself stays a few feet away. “I simply want your name,” he states finally.

I stand shocked.

“What?!”

“I do not make a habit of repeating myself darlin’,” he declares. “You heard me well enough the first time.”

“You tortured her for my name?” I whisper in disbelief. _No, it doesn’t make any sense._

“Of course not,” he sighs, almost impatiently before elaborating. “Yesterday, Peter and his band of scoundrels tormented my ship. But it wasn’t the usual taunting since the lot of them had all aged,” he explains. “Now, everyone in Neverland knows Pan would never grow up willingly. I figured mermaids would know something about his sudden aging, the boy always hanging around these vile temptresses,” he rolls his eyes. “The creature refused to reveal what she knew. But all my interrogations were answered as soon as Jukes pulled you out of that bush. I’m guessing you’re the one Pan fished out of the water near my ship yesterday too hmm?”

I stay quiet.

“Anyhow, not important anymore.” He waves the thought behind him. “Your name, lass, and the mermaid goes free.”

“Why do want to know my name so badly? I don’t see the point.”

“Can’t keep calling you lass, girl and darlin’, now can I? Wouldn’t make me any better than Pan with all his ridiculous pet names. A name would be very pleasing for the next time we meet. Hopefully in a less gruesome situation…”

“And who says we’ll be talking again?” I respond, still careful to keep the scars on my arms out of the pirates’ sight.

“The girls Pan bring on this cursed island have this curious tendency to associate with us pirates. My guess is that Pan can only keep their attention for so long before they crave something above his childish antics.”

I stare mutely at him for several seconds, still unsure if I should tell him anything. He sighs.

“I’m not a man of patience milady and I’m afraid you’ve used it all up today. Run along now, my men and I will gladly put an end to the mermaid’s suffering. Mr. Cecco, would you please shoot the damned creature—”

“Mellie,” I cut in, seeing the olive-skinned pirate pull his pistol out once more. “Most call me Mellie,” I repeat.

“I’m above pet names just as I’m above nicknames darling. I know that ‘tis not your Christian name. What name were you given by your parents?”

I’m about to refute him, ask him why it even matters, but something tells me he really is out of patience, his fingers twitching near his own weapon.

 “My name is Amelia Peterson,” I give in finally.

“There. Wasn’t so hard, now was it?” he drawls. He makes an uninterested motion with his hand. “Release the sea witch.”

One of the men standing in the dinghies still remaining on the lagoon’s calm waters approaches the rock where the mermaid is held captive. He removes the bloodied daggers, letting the creature slide miserably back into the burgundy tainted water. I watch her as she ever so weakly dives back under the surface, her tail barely slapping the water.

“It was a pleasure doing business with you, Ms. Peterson,” Hook ends, bowing before me. “I have no doubt that you shall grace us with your company in the near future. Meanwhile, have a pleasant stay in Neverland.” He straightens his hat. “Now back to the Jolly Roger men,” he instructs, turning away from me.

The pirates around me part, giving me access to the forest. I stand incredulous in the midst of them.

“You’re letting me go?”

His head turns.

“You wish otherwise?”

 _I don’t even know why I’m letting him consider the thought of taking me with him._ Shaking my head in disbelief, I spin quickly on my heel and break into a sprint in the forest.

I run through the thick vegetation until my legs can’t carry me anymore, just to make sure Hook hasn’t sent anyone to follow behind me. The air is humid, nearly suffocating me. As I bury myself deeper into the trees, I realize I have no clue where I’m heading, nor my current position. _Was the Lagoon East or West of the Island? And what about the Hideout? Hunter has to be close by. He must’ve noticed my absence._

_No one notices your absence or your presence Mellie. He was probably glad to be rid of you to hunt the Indians._

A low growl in the forest pulls me out of my thoughts. A twig breaks behind me. Filled with fear, I spin around quickly. The wind rustles the leaves; the birds are quiet on their branches, as if they know something is about to happen.

I catch a glimpse at an unknown patterned fur hidden behind a large leaf. The air thickens around me, my breathing heavy as my distress climbs. I move a step back and the animal snarls again, this time a little louder.

 _Okay calm down Mellie. Don’t move._ I take a deep breath. _It’s probably not even dangerous. A small animal that simply wants to frighten me because it’s afraid itself._ I attempt to convince myself. I look beside me, spotting a bush filled with bright yellow berries. _Hopefully it’s frugivorous_ , I trail on to myself, carefully placing a few in my palm. I slowly crouch down to the ground, avoiding any rash movements all while hoping desperately that the animal is not a meat eater. I push the berries forwards, towards the creature.

“I don’t mean to hurt you…” I say softly, as if by some miracle, Neverland’s animals could understand human talk. Cautiously, I get back to a standing position, still backing away.

The leaves where the animal is hidden move, and I freeze, knowing very well this may be my last moment. I square my shoulders, swallowing thickly but readily. _Come on Mellie. You can fight back. Just like you did in the mud pit. You can’t go down without a fight._ A frightening rumble tears through the air as the creature bounds out of it’s hiding spot.

I’m dumbfounded to say the least as I witness a little beast springing out of the bushes, eagerly heading for the yellow berries.

The being doesn’t look like anything I’ve ever seen back at home. I crouch down once more, inspecting it in awe as it eagerly swallows down its treat.

Barely a feet tall, it appears to be a mix of a bird and a leopard, it’s strangely patterned fur gleaming under the sun. The leopard spots vary in color, ranging from reds to blues to yellows to oranges and green like the feathers of a parrot. And much like the hippogriff in fairy tales, it has wings, a beak and a lean body, with four legs consisting of strong paws and a pair of talons. _A mini-hippogriff? A kitten-parrot? That thing could sit in my hands._

“What are you?” I mutter to myself.

 Its eyes meet mine and he freezes. The animal stops eating, sitting on it’s hind legs as it stares back at me, clearly analyzing me. Suddenly, it caws and chirps, the sound weirdly easy-going and happy compared to it’s previous growling. And then it flies off back into the trees.

“I see you’ve found a Nevercreature.”

I shriek in fright as Peter’s voice echoes beside my ear, taking me completely off-guard.

“Peter, you nearly gave me a heart attack!” I exclaim, hand on my distressed heart. It’s pounding so hard I feel it in my throat. “You can’t sneak up on people like that!” I insist.

“I can do what I please in Neverland, Mellie, there are no rules,” he shrugs. “And what’s a heart attack?” he asks, hovering a few inches above me. “Wait I have an even better question: what are you doing all alone in the jungle?”

Unsure if I should talk about the pirates since they didn’t exactly harm me, I decide to tell half a lie to spare him the combat against the one-handed pirate.

“I wanted to explore a bit and I got lost.” _I’ll tell him later when Hunter shows up and tells me why he abandoned me to the hands of Hook. The hand rather._

“My little Lost Girl…” he sighs. “You can’t go roaming the island unaccompanied. Not only are the pirates ashore today, but Neverland might indeed be a little cross with your unhappy thoughts,” he explains, helping me back up to my feet. I wipe the dirt off my dress. “I talked with the Chief and told him all about your problems,” he continues, motioning my arms.

“You did what?! Peter, you don’t go sharing things like that to random strangers!” I say, a pang of hurt stinging my chest. “I—”

“Shhh!” he brusquely pins me to a tree, his gaze intense. I do indeed hear the soft sound of leaves crunching. _Indians_ , he mouths. _Don’t move._

His closeness is overwhelming. Close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body Never have I ever been this near to a boy. Our bodies are practically buzzing with a mix of tension and want, and I don’t know if he’s realized it. I find myself eyeing his lips.

  “Okay they’re gone,” he whispers after several seconds. “The hunt between them and the Lost boys is still on, after all,” he elaborates, a mischievous smile drawing itself on his lips. Peter doesn’t back away from me though, undoubtly also feeling the strange hum between us. “I think you’re a magnet Mellie,” he breathes out finally, his body centimeters away from mine.

“What?” I mumble, not understanding.

“You said when you first arrived here that a magnet attracts things... Well I can’t help being attracted to you,” he whispers, his green eyes pouring into mine. “I don't know why but it hurts in my chest when I'm away from you for too long. And I simply can't get enough of touching your soft skin.” His hand cups my face, thumbs sliding over my cheeks. “And I just want to…” he pauses, looking lost and almost unsure. “I just want to do this...”

His soft lips melt with mine in a feverous kiss. My heart skips a beat, my stomach exploding with butterflies. The kiss is a mix of curiosity, doubt and desire all the same. I’m pleasantly wedged between his body and the tree, the position illustrating all the protectiveness Peter has for me.

The contact lasts a couple seconds only, Peter pulling away quickly in shock. His eyes have turned several shades darker, his lips slightly swollen. I immediately wish to feel them on mine once more, craving this unconditional love I’ve been lacking for the last years.

“I’m sorry Mellie, I don’t know what took over me all of a sudden, but I couldn’t help it,” he whispers, his fingers moving a strand of hair away from my face. “You’re so very pretty…”

“It’s fine Peter,” I mumble, breathless.

“Your eyes are simply breathtaking.”

 _Same eyes Wendy and Jane had._ And just like that the charm is broken.

“Come on Lost Girl, I’m taking you to the Indian village. The Chief wishes to speak with you,” Peter continues, not noticing the shift in the mood. I nod, letting him hoist me in his arms before we soar out in the air.


	9. Lost Girl

As Peter is flying, I can’t help replaying his comment in my head. About my eyes. I know I’ve got my Great Aunt’s and her mother’s eyes. I’ve been told repeatedly, especially by sister. But the fact that they’re one of the aspects Peter finds pretty…

 _Pan is known to be a creature of habit..._ Hook’s words ring loudly in my ears. _Would Peter have saved me from myself if I hadn’t been related to the Darlings? Did he kiss me simply because I share their traits?_

“We’re going to walk from here,” Peter states, pulling me out of my thoughts. He floats downwards slowly in a patch of trees. I can see the village’s smoke above the trees, indicating its nearness. “The Chief doesn’t like me swooping above his camp,” Pan continues, smirking. “Says it disturbs the peace.”

“A flying teenager, disturb the peace? Who would’ve thought that possible?” I tease, rolling my eyes. A smile tugs at the side of my mouth.

He chuckles and carefully places me back on my feet.

“You know, Neverland suits you,” Peter remarks, eyeing me up and down as we begin walking into the woods.

“What do you mean?” I frown, freezing mid-step in shock. _Neverland does not even like me._ As if to prove a point, a twig breaks above our heads hits me in its descent.

“I mean,” he laughs softly, his fingers removing the branch from my hair, “that you look much happier caked in mud than you did when you were clean this morning. You blend in with the rest of us and that’s a good thing. Pretty soon you’ll be able to help us skewer pirates,” he smirks, before resuming our walking. I analyze his words.

_Skewer pirates? Kill another human being?_

“Peter this needs to be clear, I can’t possibly help you _kill_ pirates—”

“Of course you can’t right now, but as soon as I teach you a bit of sword fighting you’ll be all set,” he reasons, waving his hands as if my input was nonsense.

“I won’t be doing any killing,” I insist.

“You say that now but when you’ll meet Hook and his pirates you’ll change your mind—”

“I won’t harm anybody willingly, Peter,” I repeat firmly, standing still with my arms crossed across my chest. _Why can’t he stop arguing?!_

His brows furrow, a frown decorating the green-eyed boy’s features.

“Why not? It’s just a game—”

Something snaps inside me.

“Because another one’s life should not be treated as a vulgar game!” I burst, annoyed. A flock of wild birds fly away in fright above us.

 _And apparently, life is nothing more than a horrible series of events aligning to torment me_. _Even Neverland is turning out to be a flop. I don’t fit in. Anywhere._ I clench my fists.

Pan blinks, taken aback by my outburst.

“Are you okay?” he frowns after a few seconds, eyeing me up and down. “You’ve been weird all morning. I didn’t mean to upset you Mellie,” he continues softly, his hand reaching for mine. I pull away, shut my eyes and rub my temples, breathing in and out slowly.

“Of course you didn’t mean it but you’re not being careful with your words either…” I pause in midsentence. _He’s acting like a child. Because deep down he is a child and will always be a child even though he doesn’t look like one anymore._ “Look never mind,” I shake my head. “I’m the problem, you’re right. My emotions are all over the place.”

I feel Neverland rumble underneath us at that exact same moment, the ground shaking underneath our feet. A dozen more dead branches fall from the trees above, more birds screeching in fright as the trees sway from one side to the other. Peter’s hand catches mine in attempt to reassure me.

“Are you really sure Neverland doesn’t hate me now?” I tell him, speaking loudly to be heard over the squawking birds. The trembling stops a moment later.

“Let’s just go see The Chief alright?” he exhales, doubt clouding his eyes for the first time.

The sound of banging drums pulses throughout the air as we near the village a few minutes later.

“That usually means the hunt is over,” Peter explains. “And I believe the Lost Boys have been defeated,” he trails on with a little deception, noticing the lot of them tied to a totem pole in the middle of a circle of tepees. They are struggling with their bonds, clearly not pleased with the current situation.

“I’m a little disappointed boys,” Peter Pan calls out to them.

Their heads simultaneously turn to us. All at once, I feel a mix of frustration, worry and wonder coming from them. My gaze latches on Hunter. _Why did you leave me alone?_

“Mellie!” Hunter calls out, struggling harder against his bonds. “Mellie, what happened?!”

“Yes, why indeed would anyone of you think that it was okay to leave her alone in the Neverforest?” Their leader agrees, his eyebrow cocking upwards as he crosses his arms over his chest.

A series of protest pour out of the boys’ mouths.

“No that is not what happened!”

“It’s Hook’s fault!”

“No, it’s Mellie’s fault for not staying with Hunter!”

“We were hunting Indians and we had to change our plans to find her!”

“She always wants attention—”

“One at a time!” Peter calls them back to order. “What do you mean it’s Hook’s fault?!” his green eyes find Pebble’s.

“Where did you find Mellie exactly? And why didn’t she tell you what happened?” Hunter counters, his gaze on me.

“Tell me what Mellie?” Peter turns towards me, confusion written all over his features. There’s too much going on. I want to scream.

“Little Chief!” A voice booms from behind us before I can open my mouth.

I spin around on my heel only to see who I can assume is The Chief judging by his appearance. His clothing is made of animal skin, bear and fox from the looks of it, and it’s decorated with feathers and paint. On his head sits a very large feathered crown.

“Little Chief come to my tepee with Lost Girl,” he asks, motioning the biggest tepee in the center of the village.

“We’re not done with this conversation,” Peter states.

“Hey what about us?!” Ginger calls out as we follow behind The Chief. “Ask him to untie us! It’s Mellie’s fault!”

“WE would’ve won!” Stealthy agrees.

“You can stay there while we talk,” Pan shrugs. “Bathe in the sun and whatnot,” he smirks.

Peter turns around as they whine their complaints, urging me to follow behind him and The Chief.

“Peter about Hook—”

“Later Mellie. I need to know what’s happening between you and Neverland beforehand. The old codfish can wait,” he waves me off. My eyes grow big. _He can?!_

I follow behind in disbelief as we step inside The Chief’s hut. There’s a soft fire in the middle of the area, a thin net of smoke climbing up and out the tent.        

The Indian leader sits down on a bear skin. I notice there’s a small bowl with a smoking mixture beside him. It has a weird green color.

“Sit,” he instructs, motioning the wolf fur in front of him.

“Me?” I frown, unsure.

He nods and I proceed to do as asked, uneasily taking a seat on the black wolf’s fur. The leader speaks in a foreign language.

“Show him your battle scars,” Peter translates for me, standing a few feet away.

Apprehensively, I advance my arms, wrists upwards.

His large hands grab my own, approaching them even more. He speaks in the Indian language once again, releasing me before turning to the bowl beside me and spitting in it.

“Uhh no—”

I don’t even have the time to protest that three of his fingers dip inside the wooden bowl and immediately begin tracing the scars on my right arm with the mixture. The paste is surprisingly cold, and smells a weird mix of strong herbs.

“Why—”

“No speak,” he instructs, moving to my left arm. “Close eyes,” he demands once the angry red lines are covered with the green substance.

Inhaling and exhaling loudly, I shut my eyes. _This is ridiculous. I don’t believe in the Indian’s mumbo jumbo._ But soon enough, I feel dizzy. So dizzy I find myself falling backwards.

There’s darkness around me. So much darkness it’s suffocating. I want to yell something, anything, but I’m unable to make a single sound, my throat seemingly closing on itself. Pain abruptly laces up my forearms, as if blades of the past were digging into my skin all over again.

“Stop!” I shout but my mouth makes no sound. There’s nothing but pain and obscurity. I start to panic. _That’s not how I want to die. Not at the hands of an Indian sorcerer. Not in pain. Not alone._

“Peter, help me!” It comes out at a mere whisper, but it’s like my words light up the void, allowing me to regain consciousness.

I pry my eyes open just as my head lands in Peter’s lap. I blink repeatedly.

“Sullen Aura,” The Chief states, shaking his head as he wipes my arms with a piece of fabric, cleaning my mutilation marks.

_Again with the Sullen Aura. Zee was right._

I flinch when I realize that the green paste is now black, and my scars are redder than they were before.

The Indian speaks in his mother tongue again, directed only to Peter. The latter’s eyes grow big as he takes in the words.

“What is he saying?” I ask, voice coming out hoarse as if I’d been screaming for several minutes.

“Change,” the Chief supplies, eyes moving to me. “Neverland change. Think happy thoughts,” he states, gazing at the smoke climbing behind me.

“I don’t understand…”

“Think happy thoughts,” he repeats, ending the conversation.

“ _Naoa_ ,” Peter says, bowing down before The Chief thankfully, before he helps me stand up and leads me back outside.

The sun is setting on the horizon.

“How is that possible? It was morning a few minutes ago…” I mutter, incredulous.

“A few minutes ago? Mellie, you were unconscious for several hours,” Peter denies. His tone lacks it usual carelessness. And I can’t help notice that Peter seems to be looking at me differently.

“What did he tell you precisely?” I ask him.

He bites his lip.

“I’ll tell you later. Let’s just get the Lost Boys and head back to the Hideout to eat,” he shakes his head.

“Peter is it bad?” I stop him again.

“Of course not Mellie. Nothing will ever be bad for children in Neverland,” he smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. _I strongly doubt Neverland considers me to be a child._

Peter Pan releases the Lost Boys from their bindings with his dagger minutes later. Hunter bounds towards me but his leader stops him brusquely in his tracks.

“We will talk about the whole hunting incident at the Hideout,” he warns the lot of them, his tone leaving no place for protests. “And I don’t want to hear a single one of you claim any misadventure is Mellie’s fault ever again,” he adds, steel gaze locked on Ginger and Twig. “Ever. Am I clear?” he insists.

“Very,” they nod, some of them scowling.

“Good. Let’s go then. Hunter, Twig and the triplets, you’re in charge of food.”

 

∞

 

“You talked with him. James Hook.” It wasn’t a question. “And he didn’t hurt or threaten you.”

“No,” I acknowledge. “I simply traded my name for the release of a mermaid he was harming,” I explain calmly, feeling nearly a dozen pairs of eyes on me. “Then he let me leave.”

“That filthy pirate is up to something,” Pebble scowls.

“Isn’t he always?” Twig scoffs.

“I don’t like this at all,” Peter agrees. “Mellie whatever happens, he can’t know about your scars. He’ll put the pieces together and use you to kill me—”

“The Indian chief never said anything about killing you Peter,” I deny. Worry creeps up inside me like an unwanted illness. “Peter my aura can’t possibly kill you, can it?”

“No, of course not. I’m immortal Mellie,” he laughs, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Silly idea.”

“Then why did you say—”

“Did you know Mellie beat Stealthy this morning in a fight?” Hunter intervenes, brusquely changing the subject.

“You didn’t get hurt, did you?” the leader frowns, eyeing me up and down.

“I—”

“She beat Stealthy, not the other way around. She’s a ninja. He’s the one who ended up eating mud,” the triplets giggle, speaking consecutively.

“What’s a ninja?” the green-eyed boy asks.

“A warrior from Japan,” Pebble supplies proudly. “But I don’t know where Japan is…”

“We’re drifting away from the subject. Again,” Stealthy grumbles.

“The subject being Mellie interrupting our hunt for a chat with our enemy,” Ginger presses.

“He—”

“We simply shouldn’t have allowed her come hunt with us. She’s safer when she stays in the Hideout. We can ask Dazzle to babysit her next time we go out,” Twig shrugs.

“I—”

“We can’t: the fairies have a limited time with us due to the Queen’s new rules. Besides, she won the fight against Stealthy fair and square. She’s a good fighter; I don’t see why we should exclude her.”

“Can I just—”

“Maybe but she’s not very wise—”

“CAN I SPEAK?!” I shout, tired of being cut off. They all turn to look at me, surprised. “Please let me speak,” I repeat, anger lacing my voice. “I can talk for myself, thank you very much!”

“She’s so dramatic,” someone mumbles. Something snaps inside me.

“Well you know what? Fuck you,” I retort, throwing my arms in the air. “I give up,” I scoff, flipping on my heel to head to my room.

“Mellie—”

“No. Don’t you ‘Mellie’ me,” I silence Peter, pulling my arm out of his fingers. “I don’t know shit about Neverland, apart from the fact that it wants to kill me. I know talking with Hook wasn’t my brightest idea, but I was out of options and Hunter left me to fend for myself. I know I’m not exactly the happiest person around, but I’m trying my very best and all you lot are doing is shutting me out with discriminating comments and secrets. Why am I not being treated fairly?” I burst.

I’m responded with silence, their eyes staring up at me with no emotion.

“That’s what I thought,” I end, heading to my room without another word. I stand in front of the bed of furs and shut my eyes, rubbing my temples. My head hurts and I want to scream. But I focus on the feel of dirt between my toes instead, breathing in the earthy atmosphere, trying to calm myself down. _They’re young boys. The lot of them aren’t mature enough to see what they do to me._

“It’s because you’re a girl.”

I turn around as Peter enters, pulling the curtain-like skin back in its place over the entry.

“What?”

“We’re not used to having girls around. We don’t know how to act around them,” Peter sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.

“But _you_ do,” I deny, facing him. “You’ve had Wendy here. And Jane. You know how words can affect most women.”

“I do… and I don’t at the same time,” he inhales and exhales deeply. “I didn’t want to grow up for a reason Mellie—being a teenager has more flaws than perks,” he admits. “The moods swings, the responsibilities… the hormones. Everything really apart from being stronger. We’re simply lost in the whole ordeal, trying to sort them out all while trying to understand your issues. The Lost Boys have good intentions, I swear.”

“I—”

“I’m not excusing their behaviour. But you’re asking them to grow up too fast. You can’t come here, in their home, and start asking for things to change because you want them to. It doesn’t work like that. Both need to adapt.”

My shoulders drop, my emotions flailing inside me like a tornado. _Of course. What was I thinking? If I can’t change, they can’t change. You’re so self-centered._

“Mellie,” he trails on softly, his finger tilting my chin so our eyes meet. “I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours but I know it’s not pleasant. Stop destroying yourself like that. You’re allowed to make mistakes. We all are,” he says quietly.

I can see gold specks in his green eyes.

He breathes in decidedly.

“Mellie, you’re going to have to think happy thoughts. And if you don’t have any, then we’ll make some. There’s no other way,” he decides.

“You make me feel like a chore.”

“No, no, no—I assure you, you’re not a chore. I want you to be happy. I need you to be happy,” his hands encompass mine.

_Need me._

“Or you might die,” I realize. “This is what you meant a few minutes ago. I could kill you,” I whisper horrified.

“No, no, no, of course not,” he denies rapidly. To my surprise, he engulfs me in his arms, holding me close to him. “Mellie you can’t kill me—”

“My sadness is weighing you down. I’m killing you little by little. That’s why Neverland wants me gone,” I trail on, shaking. Warm tears fill my eyes.

“My little Lost Girl, if I can promise you anything, it’s that you aren’t killing me…” he coos in my ear, rubbing my back. “Not at all.”

I find myself digging my face into his chest. I’m greeted with the soothing smell of watery leaves, cinnamon and something uniquely Peter. It’s soothing.

“Peter I’m so tired,” I mumble, crying softly. “So tired of feeling unwanted everywhere I go. I try to be accepted but I fail every time. I—” Words get caught in my throat. “I can’t even remember a time where I’ve genuinely mattered for someone.” _Lies. Joy cared for me. But that was before she left._

He cups my face into his dirt-caked hands, eyes intense.

“You do matter. More than you believe,” he says.

“Then tell me what’s worrying you about my aura,” I say, pulling away. “Tell me what the Indian chief told you. Don’t keep me in the dark Peter, I hate it,” I end pleadingly.

He bites his lip, hesitant.

“If I can’t make you see how much you mean to Neverland, I’ll grow up permanently,” he drops finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I want to apologize for the long time between the updates. I know, it sucks. But I'm doing my very best. I'd like to thank all of you for bearing with me, especially the ones who review! Makes my day! I really hope you enjoyed this chapter... More will be following as for Mellie's influence on Neverland, as well as smut. Peter did talk about hormones ;)
> 
> THOUGHTS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED.
> 
> Kudos!


	10. Lights and Shadows

I toss and turn in the bed of furs that night, unable to fall asleep. I can practically feel Peter’s declaration weighing down on me. _If I can’t make you see how much you mean to Neverland, I’ll grow up permanently…_  His words fill my mind with various unpleasant scenarios, all of which involve me, Peter, and a shadowed figure. None of them have a pleasant ending. The shadow ends up killing me, and Peter turns to dust.

_Come on Mellie. Happy thoughts. You won’t be Neverland’s undoing. You’re just a broken girl. You can’t possibly have this much power over an island made of dreams._

_Yet clouds drop from under you, the Lost Boys can’t help arguing when you’re near, and you’ve caused earthquakes._

I clench my eyes shut, trying to will the dark thoughts away but to no avail. The scars on my forearms are itchy. The air around is seemingly suffocating me, and the sounds of the jungle surrounding the hideout are all but reassuring.

“I need to breathe,” I mutter to myself, anguished. I push the large furs off my body and turn to the side of the bed. My bare feet dig into the soft dirt, toes reflexively curling in the cold soil. Grabbing a leafy jacket from the small pile of clothes Zee had brought shortly after supper, I carefully tiptoe out of my room. My arms slide into the sleeves as I walk to the main room, the boys’ snores resonating throughout the small space. Shaking my head, I avoid stepping on the numerous objects laying messily on the ground, and make my way up one of the tunnels that lead outside.

As soon as I set foot outdoors, I feel relieved. Crickets chirp softly in the night, and the moon illuminates the area surrounding the hideout, allowing me to get a good glimpse around.

I step away from the entrance and breathe in deeply, filling my lungs with much needed oxygen. The fresh air feels rejuvenating. Strengthening. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the reason why people in Neverland don’t age. Every inhale runs through my body like an electric current.

My eyes shut instinctively as I just stand in the open area and relax. _Finally. Peace and quiet. Safety–_

There’s a rustling in the leaves. I reflexively look towards the sound, heart beating a smidge faster. It slows when I see the moonlight exposing the head of a Nevercreature, popping out of a bush. It caws softly. I stare at it.

“I know you,” I say softly, recognizing its peculiar spots of fur. “You tried to scare me earlier today.”

This time it purrs, and jumps on the ground, eyes still locked on me. I grab a berry from a nearby tree, one I know I saw at the table tonight, and squat down, holding it out in front of me. The furry little beast ignores my attempt at peace, pouncing back into the bushes.

I sigh and sit on the ground, eating the berry myself. The taste, something very similar to banana dipped in caramel, though peculiar, is delicious.

The Nevercreature chirps a few feet away from me, still hidden. It chirps again, more insistently. This time, I know it’s a little deeper in the forest than the bush.

“Come out if you want to play,” I say quietly. “I’m not going into that forest alone at night.”

It flies out of the forest, then speeds back in, cawing. It repeats the motion, driving me dizzy.

“Fine,” I give in, standing up to follow it. “But I’m not going far. I don’t trust Neverland to keep me safe. Especially when I can’t see two feet in front of—.”

I barely finish my sentence that the small beast sneezes, nearly exploding into a ball of light.

I recoil in shock, before staring at the Nevercreature in disbelief. Its spots are all glowing in their respective colors, making the animal look like a small disco ball.

“Well aren’t you full of surprises,” I snort finally, eyeing the multicolored feathers.

It caws again, landing in front of me before running onto a narrow dirt path. Sighing, I end up following the fluffy glowing beast into the forest, moving branches away from my face as I advance. 

It scuttles and bounces forwards for a while, before it brusquely veers left. My eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. Pushing the bushes away where he’d just hopped in, I find myself rapidly engulfed by lush greenery, losing any sense of orientation. Panicking, I turn back around, only to realize the trees have shifted into some kind of wall. _How?!_

“Why me?!” I mutter resentfully to the isle, taking a deep breath before carefully turning back around. I search for any source of light, knowing it’d lead me straight to the Nevercreature, but everything is pitch black. Fear starts creeping inside me, making my heart pound in my chest. _That’s what you get for trying to explore an island that wants to kill you by yourself…_

As time stretches on, I get the sudden urge to whistle for the Nevercreature. _Maybe if I can get its attention, it’ll come back to me? I’d feel safer, even if it’s barely two feet tall._

“At least I wouldn’t be alone,” I add, convincing myself.

I bring my index and thumb to my lips, and blow two strident toots, the sound echoing loudly throughout the jungle.

Eerie silence replies, followed by the chirping of crickets and wind rustling in the leaves.

_Just great. Alone in a jungle with wacky creatures._

I spin on my heel again, still searching for the ball of light throughout the dense foliage. I advance past a crooked looking tree, the dirt beneath my feet getting seemingly colder.

 I squeal in fright and nearly throw myself to the ground as talons unexpectedly dig into my shoulders. The sneeze stops me from throwing the creature to the ground, as light explodes beside me.

“You sneaky little beast!” I gasp, hand pressed to my chest in attempt to calm myself. “You nearly scared the life out of me!”

My pulse is erratic, my whole body shaking at the near heart attack.

I shut my eyes as the Nevercreature caws softly, rubbing its soft head in the crook of my neck, as if asking for forgiveness. I turn my head to look into its small eyes, but it avoids my gaze, purring in my neck.

“Alright, I forgive you,” I mumble finally, hand reaching over to caress its head reassuringly. It hops off my shoulder just as I’m about to pet it, running down a mud path.

“Oh no, I’m not losing you this time!” I huff, running after it. The creature leads me about 100 yards deeper into the woods, only to stop bottom of a massive tree. The animal digs its claws into the bark, and proceeds to climb, leaving tiny indents in the trunk. Halfway up, it spreads its tiny glowing wings, and flies upwards.

I keep my gaze locked on it as it soars higher up in the branches, approaching the tree so I’m directly underneath it. _I wish I could follow it._

My eyes drift down the trunk and stop at a large tree limb, not that far above the ground. I assess the distance carefully, estimating the height to be just a little lower than the height the highest uneven bar at gymnastics practice would be. The following branches have no more than a meter and a half in between them. _Maybe I can’t fly, but I can climb._ _What if I could hoist myself up the tree?_

Not thinking about how I’ll get down afterwards, I place myself below the lowest branch, clenching and unclenching my fingers as I prepare to jump and catch.

_Come on, Mellie. It’s easy. Just like in practice. 1, 2, 3, jump!_

Pushing hard against the ground with my legs, I propel myself upwards, arms high above my head. My fingers just barely manage to latch around the rough branch, my body dangling in the air. Pain laces my biceps as I fight to keep my grip.

Taking a deep breath, I heave myself upwards, feeling every single one of my muscles protest this time.

I manage pull myself onto my stomach, over the branch.

“This is much harder than it used to be,” I gasp out to myself, looking up at the distance I still have to climb. I spot the Nevercreature’s light, 50 feet above.

 “You know, the easiest way to get up there would be to fly.”

I spin around so quickly, I nearly fall off the branch. Panicked, my eyes search the forest. There’s a gleaming hook. The white flash of teeth. A man’s voice.

“James Hook,” I whisper, blood freezing in my veins.

“The one and only.” The pirate steps out of the shadows and into the moonlight. He leans leisurely against the tree, toying with his metal appendage, eyes locked on me.

I press my back to the tree trunk, forearms carefully hidden from his view.

“Why won’t you fly, Amelia?” he enquires calmly, eyebrow cocking upwards. “You’re giving yourself a whole lot of trouble.”

“It’s Mellie,” I reply, wary. “And flying would be too easy. I need something challenging,” I continue.

“Is that so?” He ponders, not letting his blue eyes reveal any emotion whatsoever. There’s a moment of silence. “What are you doing so far out in the jungle, at this time of the night?” he counters. “Hasn’t your dear Peter warned you about the monsters lurking in the darkness on this wretched isle?”

“The only monster I’ve seen so far is you,” I retort dryly, the image of the tortured mermaid filling my mind.

“Ah, but you can _see_ me, lass.” There’s the shadow of a smile on his lips. “The most dangerous ones are the ones you _can’t_ see,” he replies calmly, eyebrow cocking upward. “ _Those_ are the ones you should really be wary about.”

I blink, his answer perplexing me.

“I don’t understand,” I get out finally.

“It’s of no matter,” he disregards. Somehow, I know he’s lying. He doesn’t seem to be the type to speak without purpose. Every single one of his words is weighed before it’s spoken.

“Where are your men?” I enquire, now noticing his aloneness. I shift on the branch, scrutinizing the area for any hiding pirates.

“Where is Peter?” he counteracts nonchalantly. “Or the Lost Boys?”

“I needed some alone time,” I find myself replying honestly. “Neverland is a lot to take in and I needed to think.”

“You didn’t choose the safest time or place,” the pirate points out, motioning the darkness.

“I realised that when you made an appearance,” I retort.

“My, my, such hostility Amelia,” he tsks. “Do you feel threatened by my presence?”

“No. I’m not afraid of you. And you didn’t answer my question. Where are your men?” I repeat, wary.

“A captain needs his private time too,” he replies carefully, eyebrow raised. “A pirate’s life can’t always be pillaging, plundering and searching for a damned boy, now can it? Anyhow, I’m not going to stop you from following that Nevercreature any longer,” he waves me off. “I was returning to my ship anyways, before I heard you speaking to yourself.”

 

A warm blush of embarrassment creeps up my cheeks. Talking to myself was a habit of mine that had gotten me numerous hateful remarks and smirks at school.

He tips his hat, and nearly bows down to the ground in a gentlemanly fashion. I roll my eyes and gaze at the moon.

“I’ll be seeing you Ms. Peterson. Hopefully in a more reasonable setting,” he calls out.

“I wouldn’t count on that,” I mumble, but he’s already disappeared into the shadows. I blink rapidly, scanning the trees. _Gone. Like a ghost._

“Croaaa!”

I glance up at the Nevercreature, the glowing beast sitting high up and clearly waiting for me to join it. _Do I really wanna climb up there or should I head back to bed?_

“You’re not even going to be able to sleep,” I convince myself decidedly. I look around once more, just to make sure I can move without risking any unwanted eyes on my scarred skin, before reaching up for the next branch.

The climb is hard, demanding the use of muscles I’d known only two years ago. My hands ache, fatigue is kicking in. And by the time I reach the Nevercreature, sweat has gathered profusely on my skin.

“Took you long enough,” Zee’s voice chuckles. “But I knew you’d make it.”

Heaving, I pull myself to a sitting position, seeing the little fairy feeding the colored beast berries. The berries I tried to feed him earlier.

“It would’ve been easier with wings,” I pant. “Or claws,” I add, eyeing the Nevercreature.

“Doesn’t matter how you succeed, as long as you do,” she shrugs, softly petting the beast’s feathers. “And besides, you’re just in time for dawn.”

I’m filled with wonder as I witness Neverland’s awakening a second time. Colors shift in the sky from a deep purple to a pretty turquoise, singed with oranges, reds and yellows as the sun leisurely begins its climb. The moon and stars gradually fade away beneath soft clouds of white.

The leaves lighten as the sun’s rays stretch over to them, a soft wind blowing between every branch, every twig. I can practically feel the youth emanating from every pore of the island.

The spectacle leaves me breathless. I have a feeling it always will.

“I do not understand how one can sleep late, knowing they’d miss this,” I murmur, scared anything above a whisper might disturb the peace. I turn to Dazzle. “As long as I’m on this island, I’m never sleeping in again,” I decide. “Not if it means I’ll miss this.”

“So, you are planning on staying?” she enquires, her tone careful not to let any feeling show.

“No. Yes. I don’t know,” I sigh. “I can’t—I can’t trust myself here. You know what will happen to Peter if I mess up, right?”

“Yes, he and I had a chat not long after you locked yourself in your room.”

“And you’re not freaking out? About what I can do unwillingly?” I ask in disbelief.

“No. I believe in you. And Neverland does too, or you’d be dust,” she reminds me.

“You don’t know me. I fuck things up,” I despair, digging my fingers in my hair. “One way or another, I’ll find a way to fuck things up,” I repeat, looking at my feet dangling in the air.

“Mellie, look at me,” the fairy demands. I tilt my head upwards.

“You have the power to make the boy who is never supposed to grow up, do so permanently. Now what are you going to do about that?”

“That’s what I’m saying. I don’t know—”

“You either try to focus on the good things this island, Peter and the Lost Boys can provide for you, or you can keep moping around, convincing yourself that you are burden to the world and be miserable and alone for an undetermined amount of time.”

“It’s so much harder than that,” I whisper.

“Just as hard as climbing this fifty foot tree,” Dazzle reasons. “Hard, but feasible. And if you’re willing to climb this godforsaken tree every morning at dawn, then you have enough will to try and see the brighter side of things and maintain Neverland’s balance.”

I purse my lips.

“I need you to say it.”

“Say what?”

“I can do this. Every single time things seem to get rough, take a deep breath, five if you need to, but you need to remind yourself that you can do it. You can do anything you dream of Mellie, that’s the beauty of Neverland.”

“Zee, talking to myself is ridiculous.”

“It is not. The person who said that to you is simply jealous they don’t have the guts to do it themselves. Come on, say it.”

I roll my eyes. She pokes my cheek.

“Say it.” The fairy begins poking repeatedly. “I won’t stop until you say it,” she sing-songs. “Say it!”

“Okay, okay fine!” I giggle, “I can do it. Whatever it is.”

The Nevercreature suddenly hops on my lap, taking me by surprise.

“See! Even he agrees! I think that gives you the right to name him,” Zee laughs, as I struggle to keep my balance on the branch. “He’s clearly taken a liking to you. You’re lucky, Nevercreature’s make great companions in the woods. Especially at night.”

“Because when they sneeze, they light up?” I chuckle.

“That, and they have a great sense of smell,” she adds. “Great for spotting prey as well as predators.”

I pet his head, thinking.

“Well, tonight he was my knight in shining armor. I think Knight would suit him,” I decide.

The beast purrs, rubbing his head in the crook of my neck.

“I think he approves,” the fairy smiles.

“MELLIE!”

Peter’s shout echoes throughout the trees, making me flinch. Knight takes off with a screech, frightened.

“Let me guess: Peter doesn’t know you’re up and about?” Zee grimaces.

“MELLIE, WHERE ARE YOU?!”

“MELLIE!” This time, its Pebble’s voice, closely followed by the other Lost Boys’.

“Nope. And I didn’t leave a note either. I thought I’d be back before they’d notice my absence,” I speak slowly.

She nods.

“I know it’s horrible timing, but I have to head back to the Hollow now,” Dazzle states, her translucent wings fluttering. “Just remember that in most cases, anger translates to concern, alright? You can do it,” she ends, leaving me alone on the tree.

“Right. I can do this,” I mutter without much conviction. Cupping my hands to my mouth, I make my location known. “Peter!” I yell. “PETER!”

The woods are suddenly deadly quiet.

“Pe—”

“Where the hell were you?!”

Peter makes an appearance so close to my face, I fall backwards and off the tree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya! I know updates take long, but they'll always make an appearance! Keep posting kudos and comments, they encourage me!

**Author's Note:**

> Please please please don't be a silent reader? I really want to know your opinion! Xx


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